martyr
by lilacwrath
Summary: Reincarnated as the firstborn of the Uchiha main family, she must do everything in her power to protect her loved ones at all costs as enemies arise from the corners of the world, each one deadlier than the last. [sakura-centric] [shisui & sakura] [inspired by monstersinmind's figures]
1. prologue: rebirth

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

12/23/2016

Shanghai

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: This fic was inspired by _monstersinmind's_ [ _Figures_ ]. Go check out his/her amazing story!

I wanted to write Itachi, but as always, my love for Sakura prevailed—so this is what came out in the end. Thanks for giving this a try. See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-prologue-**

 _rebirth_

* * *

"I may not have ended up where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be." -Douglas Adams

* * *

The one and only thing she does not and cannot remember from her past is how she had died.

Dulls her memory it does, but never does it sate her curiosity.

Did she die with a knife plunged between her ribs and into her heart? Was she burnt to nothing more than crisps by standing too close to explosive tags? Maybe, she'd aged gracefully into her years until she'd died a fulfilled life. Or, perhaps, she had fallen into a river after being injured, and hindered by her wounds, she had drowned.

She does not and cannot remember—not in the way she remembers blue, blue eyes and bright dreams, or dark hair and darker eyes, and the earth rumbling and splitting and shattering under fists forged from the hardest of diamonds, or the red, bleeding moon strung up high above the sky—

But she supposes it doesn't matter, not anymore, for death has withdrawn its clawed fingers from her cold remains, and has skittered away just far enough for the color to rush back into her skin, for blood to roar through her veins once more, and for her tongue to prickle and tingle with a peculiar yet deliciously familiar taste—ah, yes, life.

She tastes _life_ on the tip of her tongue and along the seam of her lips, and it tastes absolutely _glorious_.

There, she feels it. _There._

Her chest is thudding and pounding and convulsing with something she had long ago believed to be withered and blackened and _gone_. The sensation is almost painful, and she revels in the delirious ecstasy of it, for her heart has started to beat again.

Slowly but steadily, it picks up its pace.

Her death no longer matters, so instead, she knows how she is born—or _reborn_ —with a clarity that is all too sharp.

Haruno Sakura had died.

But now, she is alive once more.

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: Feedback is appreciated!


	2. i: she has seen it all

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

1/1/2017

Shanghai

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter i.-**

 _she has seen it all_

* * *

"Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them." -William Shakespeare

* * *

She is born with a single piercing cry, and her eyes are open. Her eyes are open, and they are burning. Her eyes are open, and they bleed red. Her eyes are open, and both spins with the pattern of a two-tomoe Sharingan.

 _Because she has seen it all._

She's seen the dark. She's seen the brightness in one little spark. She's seen children with paper hearts play with lit matches. She's seen souls old and young perish to nothingness amidst black flames. She's seen grasping hands claw at dancing dreams only for them to clutch at empty air. She's seen blood sink into a canvass of corpses like crimson ink.

To want more would be greed, because there is nothing left for her to see.

And so her Sharingan spins, spins, and spins.

Cries of shock rises from the medics, and the Uchiha clan echoes them.

[ _martyr_ ]

Uchiha Fugaku had expected a boy. He had wished for one. A beautiful baby boy, one with dark hair and darker eyes just like any other Uchiha. A baby boy with the strength and skill to match his beauty. He and Mikoto had even decided on the name 'Itachi'.

Instead, they conceive a daughter. A baby girl, one indeed beautiful with her sweet button-nose and pixie-like features, one indeed with dark hair that is completely devoid of his own dark brown and instead is the solid black of Mikoto's ink hair—but it's a _girl_.

He might have been a little agitated at first, because _damn it_ , he wants a _male_ for an heir.

But, he is certain that he will settle down not long after, though. An Uchiha is an Uchiha nonetheless, and Fugaku is a master at adapting.

If only that is the only problem he has to worry about.

Oddly, she cries only once, and remains silent very shortly after. A tender sheet of chakra pulsates forth from her tiny form and fans out across the room like a tentative wave washing ashore, and when she blinks again, her Sharingan is swallowed. Another wave of unease rolls over him when he catches sight of her eyes. Absent of the Sharingan, one is now the common onyx of most Uchiha—but the other, her right eye, is the shade of the brightest jade and spring and _life_.

She seems content enough not sleeping but looking around the room with those strange mismatched eyes instead. He notices that some of his clansmen look away when her gaze meets theirs. There is an uncanny shrewdness and intelligence in her quiet observation, and he would never admit aloud that it both pleases him and unsettles him at the same time when her eyes land on his. Hers are not the eyes of a newborn, and he does not remember any green-eyed relatives. The maelstrom of emotions almost knocks him off his feet, and even when it subsides, if only a little bit, Fugaku still does not know if he should feel pride or trepidation.

For the clan, though, it is easier. In her, they sense the wilted petals of the old era, and the blossoming bud of something grand new. She is the strength and future of the Uchiha clan. She will reinstate them back to the unbridled glory they once withheld. In her, they see _hope_.

Mikoto names her 'Sakura', and while Fugaku is not too fond of awfully generic names, there's a strange rightness to it all from the way Mikoto stares at him with no-nonsense eyes that won't have it any other way and how their baby's dusty lashes flutter with something close to approval. Or maybe she's equally appalled; he's not completely sure.

 _'Sakura, huh.'_

"Sakura, Uchiha Sakura," Fugaku says aloud, testing the name on his lips, awed in the way it rolls right off his tongue. He repeats it again, and this time, every word is crisp and firm in his resolution. "Hail, Uchiha Sakura, heiress and firstborn of the Uchiha."

"Hail, Sakura-sama," his kindred chorus.

One by one, the members of the Uchiha clan drop to their knees gracefully and perform proper kowtow, pressing their foreheads to the cool tatami-layered floor. In this moment obviously reserved for the clan only, and with no more space left for them in the Uchiha delivery room, the medics spare various glances of intrigue and apprehension before shuffling out through the doorway. The Uchiha then rise, and after congratulating the young couple, they also take their leave.

The red steely gaze of the newborn will be forever imprinted on the back of their eyelids.

They all know she is destined for unimaginable greatness.

[ _martyr_ ]

Uchiha Mikoto knows that she has given birth to a legend.

When her daughter opens her red, red eyes and a trickle of raw chakra slithers out like a newborn snake—Mikoto is equal parts terrified and awed. She has never seen or heard of any Uchiha born with the Sharingan or any infant with even half-developed chakra coils—until now, it seems. The medics announce that she is an indisputable medical miracle.

Mikoto refrains from peeling her lips back from her teeth and outright snarling at them because she can see their hungry, greedy eyes seeking out her infant daughter, desiring to snatch her away from her weakened arms and lay her down on the operating table so they can whip out their gleaming scalpels and cut her open like some goddamn test rat—

She takes deep, soothing breaths. Her whole body is still aching and sore. Child labor and delivery is a tiring task, and there is no doubt that she needs a well-deserved long, restful nap. Right now though, she is content with holding her still-awake baby in her arms and feeling her lighter heart drum in sync with her own. It is a novel experience.

She knows that Fugaku had wished for a boy and she herself had not minded either way. Secretly though, she had hoped for a baby girl. A girl, so Mikoto could comb her hair and entwine it with colorful silk ribbons. A girl, so Mikoto could doll her up and dress her in robes made of the finest fabrics. A girl, so Mikoto could take her little hand in hers and pick the prettiest flowers in the Uchiha garden.

And so, imagine her delight when the medics had pronounced her baby a girl. She'd been too ecstatic to mind Fugaku's evident disgruntlement. And then, imagine her concern and alarm when her baby girl had opened her eyes and out leaked a trickle of chakra. And now, imagine her disappointment and melancholy that her baby girl isn't the baby girl she'd always wanted and—

It is a terrible shame and self-loathing that eats away at her insides like acid.

Her baby girl doesn't smile. Her baby girl doesn't cry. Mikoto has never even heard her make any noise once since her birth, and even then, that was only for the need of oxygen. Her eyes are alien features that do not belong on the face of any baby; too cold, too sharp, too indecipherable, too detached. She is a silent baby, and Mikoto feels tiny wintry feet patter a telltale path down her spine as the silence stretches.

It isn't a serene kind of silence, nor is it one coiled with volatile energy. Her baby seems to exude an illusory innocuous air in the stillness around her. Calculating eyes sweep across the room and settle on every object, picking them up and turning them inside-out and tossing them away over and over again. _'_ _The eyes of a practiced critic,'_ Mikoto thinks.

And then, the very same eyes drift up almost lazily to lock with hers and _black meets green meets black_. She has never before felt so pathetic, squirming under the scrutiny of her own baby. Do not look away, the eyes seem to say. A violent jolt shoots through her frame as her breath catches in her throat. Do not be afraid. Don't you know? _The eyes are the windows to the soul._

And suddenly, Mikoto finally understands.

Because before she is the Uchiha matriarch, before she is a housewife, before she is a mother—Uchiha Mikoto is a ninja first and foremost. Not just any ninja; she is a jōnin. It doesn't matter how long she's been on leave, for she has long ago come to know the feel of blades slicing into skin and of bruises littering split knuckles. She has come to know the wetness of blood freckling her face and of her trusted katana gripped in strong fingers. She has come to know the crunch of splintered bones and of the cries of the determined and desperate and dying.

She is an old acquaintance of battle and pain and death. She is an accomplished assassin trained in the art of stealth and murder since her youth, and it will do nobody good to ever forget that.

She is a ninja, and she _understands_.

Children are knives, and she can already tell that her own daughter is no exception. They don't mean to, but they cut all the same. And yet those who sire them still cling on, don't they, clasp them tighter and closer even when blood starts to flow.

Mikoto is no exception.

"Sakura," she says to her daughter. "I can sense that you will become a very strong girl, but you have to understand that the road in front of you will be paved with countless difficulties. Each enemy will be deadlier than the last, and to remain victorious, you will have to become faster, stronger, _fiercer_. It will be a challenging journey, so know and remember that I will be with you every step along the way. We shall grow stronger together; do you understand?"

And suddenly, Sakura finally _understands_.

While there is still softness in her mother's gaze, there is a calculating, bone-chilling sharpness that glimmers just below her thick lashes. Her face seems to be carved from marble. So, this is the true form of the woman who had shaped legends with her own bare hands.

It is the first time Mikoto sees her daughter smile.

Well, it's more of a twitch of the lips—but to Mikoto, just as she understands that her newborn daughter is a warrior, she also understands that this is her own special equivalent of a smile, and she will forever cherish this eighth-of-a-centimeter twitch.

An invisible weight lifts from her heart and her own smile, complacent and relieved, breaks across the stern lines of her face.

"Good girl."

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: Feedback is appreciated!


	3. ii: fire in your veins

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

1/17/2017

Shanghai

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: Happy Chinese New Year everyone! See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter ii.-**

 _fire in your veins_

* * *

"Will you tolerate

the strangeness inside of me,

the quirks of my soul?"

-Tyler Knott Gregson

* * *

"This is Sakura."

The recently-made mother flushes pleasantly as her best friend squeals in delight at the bundled lump resting in her arms. Said bundled lump lazily cracks open her eyes to meet pools of curious violet.

"Her green eye is so strange yet so pretty at the same time. Wonder where she got it from, eh?" Kushina remarks, raising a finger to gently poke at Sakura's cheek, only for the baby to suddenly reach out uncannily fast and catch her finger in her own tiny ones. "Woah, is this normal?"

A rather pensive look flashes across Mikoto's face. "From the moment she was born, I knew she was special."

Kushina cocks an eyebrow in question, eyes fixated to Sakura who still has her finger in a tight grip.

Mikoto casts a discreet glance around their surroundings before continuing in a lower tone, "Sakura activated her Sharingan when she was born."

"...Ah, yes. Minato told me after he heard from Fugaku." Kushina nods slowly before a furrow crinkles the space between her brows. "But…shouldn't that be impossible? For a Uchiha to gain access to the Sharingan upon birth?"

"It is— _was_ —certainly unheard of…until Sakura, it seems." The Uchiha matron's face scrunches up in her own bemusement. "Technically, it should be unfeasible considering the lengths to which we have to go to in order to provoke its activation. For Sakura to have acquired it ostensibly naturally…"

"Atypical," Kushina murmurs.

Sakura, for her part, is staring back at the red-haired woman with fervent eyes that look almost hungry. The compelling urge to pull this woman closer into a more intimate proximity is nearly overwhelming, and she can't seem to tear her gaze away. She's completely enthralled.

The curve of her lips when she speaks, the way the corners of her eyes crinkle, how her entire face lights up when she smiles…for a split second, she sees sun-kissed hair instead of flame red and azure blue eyes instead of dark amethyst _._ Her heart clenches, and subconsciously, her grip on Kushina's finger tightens to the extent of being uncomfortable.

"You're a strong baby, 'ttebane." The red-haired woman winces, pulling away with what looks like more effort than supposedly needed. "Uh, Mikoto, your baby looks like she's about to start crying."

"Hm?" Mikoto peers down and relaxes somewhat when Sakura looks serene and unruffled, as per usual. "Ah, about that, Sakura doesn't really cry."

"Huh? But all babies are supposed to cry and all that!" Kushina exclaims. "Not that I know much about them, you know, since I'm not around too many babies."

"And most Uchiha babies are not supposed to have the Sharingan when they are born. Sakura is…different." Mikoto shrugs with her natural elegance. "She's always been a calm baby. She neither fusses tantrums nor throws tantrums. She's all but silent most of the time."

"That's kinda…absurd. But as long as you have it easy, right? I just hope my baby will be half as well-behaved—" she breaks off abruptly and blushes almost as red as her hair when a sly expression creeps onto her best friend's face. "Hey, what's that look for? Minato and I…we aren't like _that_ yet, 'ttebane!"

Mikoto chuckles before they lapse into an easeful silence that is fractured when Kushina coos to Sakura, "You look a lot like your mother, you know?"

Mikoto snorts, unable to hold it in. "Nonsense. She's her daddy's girl all the way through. Looks like him and even acts like him, too."

"Well, her disposition may be reserved and stoic like Fugaku's, but in terms of physical appearance she actually bears a great resemblance to you." Kushina observes. "She's got your hair, that one's obvious. And, if you squint hard enough, the shape of your eyes. Besides, I bet when she grows up and her face levels out, she's going to have your slender jaw frame, too."

Inclining her head, Mikoto regards her baby in a new light thoughtfully. "You know…" she says to Kushina. "You actually have a point there."

Kushina preens, looking pleased with herself. "I do, don't I? Anyways, I have one very important and very critical question."

Mikoto leans in as Kushina beckons her closer, a hand curving over her mouth in secrecy.

"…Did it hurt?"

[ _martyr_ ]

It is during dinner when she speaks her first word.

"How did the meeting go?" Mikoto asks her husband, setting a plate of gyōza on the table before settling onto her own zabuton beside her infant daughter.

The tear troughs and stress lines on Fugaku's face seem deeper than ever as he replies, looking ever weary. "War is rising. Another skirmish with a group of Iwa-nin broke out this morning. They got away, but the Konoha patrol who clashed with them noted that they were heavily injured and would probably not make it back to their side of the border, so the Sandaime sent another group after their trail. Haven't heard any news from them yet."

"So it's true then," Mikoto says gravely as she delicately dips sweet rice into Sakura's smaller bowl. "Iwagakure has successfully infiltrated Kusagakure."

"Hn. The only bright side to all this is the council talking about pushing Minato's inauguration forward." About time, too. Fugaku has grown to greatly respect the man's formidable prowess.

"That's wonderful news!" His wife brightens. "Once Minato-kun becomes Hokage, I'm sure many things will change for the better. Besides, Kushina-chan will be so happy—"

"—no-ha," a tiny voice unexpectedly pipes up from beside her.

Mikoto's mouth snaps shut as the two adults both redirect their undivided attention to the third speaker. Exchanging a hopeful glance with her husband, Mikoto turns to her three-month-old daughter, voice full of quiet excitement. "Sakura-chan, did you say something?"

Fugaku watches intently from his side of the table, fingers tightening around his chopsticks hard enough to snap them in half.

A queer, burning sheen glosses over her habitually vacant eyes, and her face is composed of an even deeper somberness than usual as she repeats, "Ko-no-ha. Konoha. _Konoha_."

Her village, her birthplace, her home.

She'll fight tooth and nail to defend it till her last dying breath, and this time around, she will not fail again.

[ _martyr_ ]

Mikoto is going to kill him—if this actually works or if she ever finds out, that is.

"It's the coming-of-age rite of our clan," Fugaku explains. "The Great Fireball Technique."

Staring at his two-year-old daughter dubiously, he wonders if he has gone too far overboard this time.

She's two-years-old. _Two_. The number resounds in his mind, loud and sonorous. She's a child, barely a child, and the top of her head just passes his knees by only a few inches and he still dirties his hands occasionally changing her diapers and—

But she's had her Sharingan since birth, and if that alone doesn't count as the epitome of true natural power, he doesn't know what is. It doesn't matter if it's half-developed. No Uchiha before her had ever been born with the Sharingan. Her chakra system is more refined than any child of her age he has ever come across. That definitely counts as something, right?

Clearing his throat and feeling just a bit more decisive, he beckons her closer to where he is standing on the near end of pier in a random secluded lake he had brought her to. Father and daughter, their reflections are peculiar on the rippling surface of the lake. Her single green eye looks particularly striking.

"Watch closely," he instructs her before his fingers start to blur, and retaining his right hand in a tiger-seal, he inhales deeply— " _Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!_ "

The resulting fireball is gigantic and completely blots out their view of the other end of the lake. From his peripheral vision, Fugaku notes with mild approval that Sakura's gaze is riveted to his jutsu, flickering flames reflected in green and black eyes, rather than averted from the heat and brightness. Her rather unimpressed visage is a little disheartening, though. He's not giving his all for this jutsu as it is only a demonstration, but he'd like to think that it's still considerably impressive to his two-year-old daughter. He holds the jutsu for several more seconds before he lets it fade back into the atmosphere.

"Not my best one, but it'll do for a demonstration. I'll show you the hand seals and you do your best to copy them." Fugaku says, turning back to his daughter. " _Mi_ , _Hitsuji_ , _Saru_ , _I_ , _Uma_ , _Tora_. Again. _Mi, Hitsuji, Saru, I, Uma—_ Sakura?"

To his displeasure, she's turned her back towards him and is facing the lake. Fugaku frowns and is just opening his mouth to reprimand her when she opens her own.

The massive expulsion of chakra is so sudden it nearly strikes him down to his knees, and as he watches in bodacious disbelief and incredulity, Sakura cocks her head forward and raises her hand in a tiger-seal, and then a thin stream of pale light that gradually thickens to a swirling ball of flame and fire emits from her parted lips. The raging inferno of red and orange that blazes and roils into the clouds is twice the size of his. Intense heat prickles across his skin and sinks through his clothing, a distant roaring sweeps into his ears, and his eyes are mere slits against the vehement radiance.

It takes a long moment before it crackles out. Steam drifts from the lake in wisps like masquerading ghouls, and the sheer brightness of the fireball still sears almost painfully at the back of his eyelids. The air around the two of them feels scorched and heavy.

Fugaku simply gawks, his normally icy composure completely shattered, and his eyes bulges so drastically a snide little voice in the back of his mind wonders if they are attempting suicide by leaping into the water.

To say he is shocked is a drastic understatement. He is completely and utterly floored. There is no better word to describe his current state than 'dumbfounded'. Something that should be impossible…is playing out right in front of his own eyes.

After a minute or ten, he snaps back to reality with his daughter by his side, looking unsuspecting and innocent as if she hadn't just spat out a ginormous fireball from her own mouth at the timid age of two. _Two_. He forcefully stifles the urge to take her by the shoulders and shake her until he can successfully decipher something _—anything_ _—_ from her placid mask.

 _'A true Uchiha_ ,' he decides instead.

"Did you use your Sharingan?" he then demands.

She shakes her head.

"Let me see them."

He notes how fascinating it is to watch the way the red bleeds into her green eye—and then the feeling of being punched repeatedly takes root in his gut when he sees the exact state of said eyes.

Three tomoes. _Three_.

"How good is your chakra control?" he presses on ardently.

"Good enough," she answers, but really, she's just being modest. While not completely a lie, it certainly is not the truth, because 'good enough' is too mild a way to put it.

It is a bona fide statement to say that while her control over chakra is still quite excellent—much to her relief—and will improve by leaps and bounds with more training or meditation, she can tell that it will never exceed far enough to be on the same caliber as her former body's. One of the many defining skills Haruno Sakura once possessed had been her absolute proficiency in chakra control, and reincarnation had taken that from her, lowering her to Shizune's level of control, which fortunately is still prestigious enough and is something she will be happy to work with.

Although it truly is quite a pity that, like Shizune, she will never be able to achieve the Byakugō Seal now due to the technique being the very pinnacle of chakra control. She does not doubt that she will still be able to shatter earth and punt her opponents into the sky, but there is also no doubt that there will never again appear a purple rhombus on her forehead.

To her surprised delight though, her new body holds a rather large chakra reserve for someone her size and age. She gleans explanation from the fact that it most likely also has something to do with her being reincarnated, and even reborn as a Uchiha. _'Really_ , _of all people_.'

She is shaken out of her musings when Fugaku's eyes wash red as he activates his own Sharingan. Almost as if speaking to himself, he starts muttering under his breath. "Quite a sizeable amount of chakra you've got there, for someone your size and age…"—which is what she had gathered as much— "…astounding…this is… _incredible_. This is truly a commendable feat, Sakura."

"Hai, tou-sama."

He wastes little to no time hurrying back to their house with her in tow.

"To gauge your affinity," he explains, before practically shoving the piece of chakra induction paper at her face in his impatient excitement. "Even a tiny prick is enough."

Pinching it between her fingers and sending forth a burst of chakra, the paper then ignites, causing her to let go as it turns to ashes in midair and sprinkles down to the ground.

"Like most Uchiha, you have an affinity for fire." Fugaku nods, evidently pleased. "When you mature, I have no doubt that you will be able to master at least one nature. Perhaps, like most Uchiha, lightning. A blend of fire and lightning will lead to a myriad of handy techniques in your arsenal." A contemplative expression steals over his face before he comes to a decision. "I've underestimated your talent, it appears so. Your potential is too great to be neglected any longer. I will enroll you into the Academy soon."

He watches carefully for her reaction, or rather, the lack thereof. There is no change in his daughter's expression, and he feels himself deflate a slight bit. Had he expected her to jump for joy? Shake in excitement? Goggle at him with eyes full of fear?

Well, perhaps not, but he had certainly expected _something_. Because what does it say of him as a parent, when he cannot even tap into her emotions? Certainly nothing pleasant, as he does not have even an inkling what goes on under that unmoved demeanor most of the time.

There is no crack in her perfect mask.

"Thank you, tou-sama." She bows instead, and despite himself, his lips quirk up in a smirk wide enough for the both of them.

"You've got fire in your veins, my daughter," Fugaku says. "Show them the power of a true Uchiha."

[ _martyr_ ]

"She's two-years-old, Fugaku!" Her mother's raised voice travels to her ears even as she sprawls languidly on the bed in her room. "Two-years-old. _Two_."

"Age has no bearing on ability," her father replies, his tone calmer and lower, yet still able to cut through the din in its firmness and decisiveness. "She's different. She's special. You've _seen_ it, Mikoto, you _know_ so."

It's been going on for quite a while now. From the moment Fugaku made his decision of her upcoming enrollment known to his wife, Mikoto's been in an instant opposition. She's not afraid of being vocal about her disagreement, too.

"You've seen what they do to children during war. Even _Konoha_ throws children out there whenever there's a dearth supply of shinobi. You're right, Fugaku. Sakura is special. And as soon as the rest of the world sees just how _special_ she is, they'll have her tearing through ranks, and before you know it, she'll be right beside you on the battlefield!"

Sakura suspects that once, the house had been swept into a similar uproar when Mikoto had tried in vain to shield her eldest son. Her mother had probably not argued as fiercely as she's doing now though, because unlike Sakura, Itachi had been fortunate enough to just brush shoulders with war and witness firsthand many of its casualties; it could have been a lot, lot worse. Sakura though, was born just a year or two before the Third Shinobi War waged and fully broke out.

If Fugaku's verdict is assented, there is no way she can escape the warpath, clan heiress or not. As Mikoto had said, even Konoha will throw children into the fray in the face of war. Sakura's talent will not go unnoticed—she _won't_ let them—and she will be fished out of the Academy and tossed out onto the battlefield as they see fit. It will not in the least be pleasant.

But as much as he loves his wife and daughter, Fugaku has to put the wellbeing of the whole Uchiha clan in front of anything and everything else.

"This kind of prodigious talent should be cultivated as soon as possible for it to reach its full potential. If it really comes down to the worst, war will only inure her to the true life of shinobi. She will grow up to become the finest shinobi ever to lead our clan."

"Fugaku, please." Her mother's voice loses its ferocity and volume, suddenly sounding so worn and weary it makes Sakura's heart ache a little. She finally decides that enough is enough, and slides open the shōji door to pad down the stairs.

"She's going to the Academy, Mikoto," Fugaku says. "Not to war—"

"Don't you pretend you don't know just as well as I do that with her talent and with war on the brink of breaking out and with Iwa's population far outnumbering ours—it'll be a miracle she isn't made into a child soldier," Mikoto hisses, and Sakura feels another wave of respect for the woman; she's never seen her mother so defiant and full of fire before. "Do you remember what _we_ were doing when we were two-years-old? How can you compromise both her physical and emotional state by thrusting her into warfare at such a young age? How can you stand the thought of our child wetting her fingers in blood? How can you—"

"Because to be able to protect the people precious to me, I will have to grow faster, stronger, _fiercer_."

Mikoto's face slackens as she turns to Sakura who had ventured into the room with neither of them noticing.

 _'A true assassin_ ,' a small voice in the back of her mind whispers.

"There is another presence within you," her daughter continues before her or her husband can get another word out in between.

It is not a question, but a self-confirmed statement.

"You can tell?" Mikoto reflexively rests a hand against her stomach as Sakura nods. Loose clothing has hidden her slightly swollen stomach, so she does not know how Sakura could have known. Even though she should be used to her clever, clever daughter after more than two whole years, she still finds herself zapped by bouts of surprise from time to time.

She can't help it. She doubts anyone can. It's amazing and a little unnerving how Sakura almost seems to know everything about anything.

"It's a boy." Sakura walks forward, placing her own hand atop Mikoto's. She doesn't question her daughter. There is a rare tenderness in her expression that makes Mikoto want to swoop her up into her arms and tightly embrace her forever, but she doubts that Sakura would appreciate the showy display of affection.

So instead, she stoops down and presses her lips to the top of Sakura's head swiftly. "Then I guess that means you'll going to have a little brother, ne?"

"Yes." Sakura's eyes swivel up and the corner of her mouth twitches. "Soon."

Instantaneously, all her ire is quenched and she loses her fire. Outnumbered, she has no chance. Still, she makes one last stand. "Sakura-chan…the life of shinobi is rigorous and grueling. Are you ready to have to undergo it at such a young age? You're a child, Sakura-chan, _barely_ a child. To demand so much from you is should be considered inhumane. Are you sure—"

"Kaa-san," Sakura's voice is gentle yet effective enough to cut off her rambling. "I am ready. I am sure."

 _'I have tried, I have pleaded, and I have done all I can.'_ Mikoto casts her eyes skyward before closing them. She can't help but feel as if her child has signed her soul to the Shinigami himself.

"Do not make me regret this," she says bleakly, and even she does not know whom she is addressing. Her husband? Her daughter? Her gods? Herself?

There is no answer from any of them as she turns away.

[ _martyr_ ]

The Uchiha children are unbelievably noisy, she finds out to her rising ire.

Most of them are older than her, and they keep insisting on getting right up in front of her face, pushing and shoving each other out of the way to snatch her attention—not that they don't already have her entire focus. In fact, she can't ignore them if she tries. _She's already tried_.

Nothing like being poked and prodded like a pet animal.

Although it does please her on some level as to being treated like a little kid again, it simultaneously infuriates her to no end. Not for the first time, she wonders if they will all just shut up if she opens her mouth and starts crying. It won't be wholly faked, too.

"You are so cute. Like, _seriously_."

"I heard you're going to be enrolled into the Academy soon."

"Can't you smile _once_ , Sakura-chan? Just once! Please, for me?"

"Why's your eye _green_? It looks weird."

"Hey, don't be rude! I'll get him for you, Sakura-chan!"

"Why isn't she smiling?"

"Was that a sneeze? She just sneezed! So _precious!_ "

"Idiot, maybe she's sick!"

"Who're you calling idiot? You're probably the one who infected her in the first place!"

"Do you think she knows _how_ to smile?"

Kami, she's never been so humiliated.

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: And in the next chapter, we'll have Sakura in the Academy.

Feedback is appreciated!


	4. iii: prodigy

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

1/28/2017

Shanghai

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: Thank you for all your support! And because multiple people have stated that they think Sakura is too emotionless, I would like to clarify it here:

I do not think I made Sakura too emotionless. Remember that readers do not know what this Sakura has really been through and what she is fully capable of performing. Being reincarnated has not made her into the same person she once was. Just because one does not put their emotions on open display does not mean that they simply do not feel at all. After training for decades as an elite shinobi, Sakura has perfected a tight reign over her emotions. It does not mean that she is utterly _emotionless_ , rather than being skilled enough to be capable of masking her true feelings. And, yes, of course Sakura will feel more at ease expressing herself in later chapters. How will the story get anywhere else then?

Thanks for reviewing, though! It was nice hearing your thoughts, and I anticipate to hear more from you all.

See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter iii.-**

 _prodigy_

* * *

"To my Daughter:

Never forget that I love you.

Life is filled with hard times and good times.

Learn from everything you can.

Be the woman I know you can be."

-Mom

* * *

"What's rule number one?"

"Always be polite to my teachers and my peers."

"Second rule?"

"Always finish my lunch."

"Third?"

"Always try my very best."

"Very good," Mikoto says as they stop at the entrance of the Academy. "I think you're ready to go. Well, as ready as any two-year-old can be. Which I still think is far too soon, by the way—"

"Kaa-san," Sakura sighs in exasperated fondness. "Why do I get the feeling that you're even more nervous than I am?"

"Because I am!" her mother exclaims, actually wringing her hands. "It's the first time I'm not going to be able to keep you by my side all day, so it's only natural that I worry. Besides, you're going to be the youngest and smallest among your classmates."

"I am the heiress of the Uchiha clan," Sakura says with definitely more confidence than Mikoto feels at the moment. "I do not think that anyone will be brave or foolish enough to pick on me."

Her mother's expression darkens. "I don't know, Sakura-chan. Children can be so cruel these days. You're going to meet some with domineering personalities: the bold, the loud, the obnoxious—those who noisily stake their claims in your territory and everywhere else they mark and set foot on."

"I won't let them cross _my_ border," Sakura assures her. "They won't dare."

"Hold on," Mikoto says hastily. "I'm not saying you should scare them all off and not make any friends, because making friends is a good thing. You don't have to find too many, just the ones who truly care for you and will stick with you though thick and thin."

"Is that what Kushina-san is to you?" Sakura asks curiously.

Mikoto's expression instantly softens. "Yes, Kushina-chan is my best friend."

A bell chimes before either of them can say another word, signaling for students to start settling into their seats.

"Oh, I will _not_ have my daughter late on her first day of school." Bending down, Mikoto straightens Sakura's clothes and smoothens her hair. "Now off you go, before I change my mind and haul you back home. Don't forget it's classroom one-oh-four."

Stretching up on her toes, Sakura presses an affectionate peck to her mother's cheek before backing away with a hand raised in farewell. "See you after school, kaa-san."

"I'll be there, Sakura-chan." Mikoto tries for a cheery grin, but it only comes out as anxious and crooked and just slightly deranged.

When her daughter is about to turn the corner, her mouth moves before her mind can catch up. "Wait, Sakura-chan!"

Sakura stops and glances back over her shoulder.

"I…" Mikoto bites her bottom lip, staring at her daughter. She still can't quite believe that all of this is really happening. Her daughter is entering the Academy at two-years-old. _Two-years-old_. Her tiny, tiny daughter is going to learn how to be an assassin—

"Yes, kaa-san?" Sakura calls, starting to look a little impatient.

Mikoto mentally shakes herself. She cannot lose her composure at a time like this. Even if Sakura may not know so, she will always need somebody to cheer her on by the sidelines as she becomes the strongest of them all—and Mikoto just _knows_ she will be. Letting out a sheepish laugh, Mikoto replies, "Remember the three rules!"

Even from the distance, her sharp eyes catch Sakura's mouth twitching in a smile of acknowledgment and perhaps, amusement, and then she is rounding the corner, dark hair and grey clothes disappearing from her view.

She lingers on her spot several more minutes before lightly sighing again, and then Mikoto turns back to walk home alone.

And if people stare and whisper behind her back, she will insist the reason is because it's the first time a certain mismatched-eyed girl is not walking on the streets beside her or because her swollen stomach is getting noticeably larger with each day—certainly not because of the glum and forlorn expression she wears on her face.

That's what she tells herself, anyway.

[ _martyr_ ]

They stare too long and too hard at her eyes, and while she knows that they are curious about their mismatched state, she also knows that it's partly because they almost expect to see the Sharingan gleaming back at them.

She takes a seat at the front just as a man walks in.

"My name is Funeno Daikoku," he says. "You may call me Daikoku-sensei."

Daikoku-sensei, she remembers from her time, is a man as pleasant and friendly as his appearance suggests. A fairly large man with brown hair and a goatee, a jocular grin splits his face from ear to ear. He is the kind of teacher who puts students at ease, and in that way he reminds her of Umino Iruka. It's a shame he'd died a painful death from being crushed by giant chunks of falling debris, shielding his students with his own body when the Academy building had collapsed. Iruka had been found in a similar state beside his colleague, and a part of Uzumaki Naruto had died along with his father-figure that devastating day. Sakura remembers holding him close as he fell apart in her arms.

She will make sure that history does not repeat itself.

There are quite of few clan members in her class ranging from Inuzuka to Hyūga. There is only one other Uchiha besides her, an older male whom she does not recall ever seeing before. The Uchiha had been forced to gather into their own district along the outskirts of Konoha only after the Kyūbi's attack, and so the main family— _her_ family—now has an entire compound close to the center of the village all to themselves. While some members have stayed, most houses are empty since the previous inhabitants chose to move out to other parts of the village. So, as of now, most of her clan's members are scattered all over the village, which is probably the reason why she hasn't seen much of the others.

The boy dips his head respectfully to her, and she inclines her own.

Daikoku instructs the class of twenty-three students to stand up one by one and introduce themselves.

"My name is Uchiha Sakura," she says when it's her turn. "I will be turning three-years-old this year. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

Simple and concise, yet it doesn't stop their goggling. She doesn't begrudge them for it, though. Children their age are naturally curious, and in this case, they have a very good reason to be.

Her height immediately distinguishes her from the rest of the class, and with at least a five-year gap, the baby fat still clinging to her cheeks and short limbs are unmistakable. Furthermore, she is the heiress of the most notable clan in their village, and already the whispers of her flabbergasting and astonishing stunts have spread far and wide from house to house.

Daikoku starts off their lessons by making them memorize the geography and various smaller villages of Hi no Kuni, to the majority's dismay. Sakura, however, clearly belongs in the minority. Namikaze Minato had set the highest scores in the Academy, and if she remembers correctly, Uchiha Itachi had followed a close second. Twirling the pencil between her fingers with hidden glee, she can't help but think how much fun she's going to have topping them all.

Her gaze hones down to the paper on her desk, and she is mildly surprised to see how much more advanced it is when she'd first taken the test in her timeline. Apart from Tanzaku Gai and Otafuku Gai, there are towns on the map that had not existed in her timeline. She comes to the conclusion that the Third Shinobi War had probably destroyed them all even before she'd been born.

With the promise that they will start on Tsuchi no Kuni tomorrow, Daikoku leads them outside the classroom and onto the training grounds. Much to the students' delight, he begins to hand out shuriken and kunai, directing them to their own target board.

 _'The war truly must be progressing at an alarming rate_ ,' Sakura thinks with a heavy heart as she steps forward to receive her share of weapons.

"As you probably know, children normally enter the Academy at age six to eight," Daikoku says to her as he leads her to her own board. "Entering it at just two-years-old makes you a very special case. You're the youngest ever to enter with Hatake Kakashi following, and if you prove just to be as talented as he is, you'll graduate just as early, if not earlier." They halt in front of her target. "I expect great things from you, Sakura-kun."

"Hai, sensei."

She fits a shuriken between her fingers and throws it, but even before it has fully left her hand, she can already tell that something is off with her aim. It whistles through the air before sinking into the board—just an inch from the bullseye.

Her brows draw together in a frown. It seems that she's gotten a bit sloppy in her long period of nonuse. Her wrists are a little stiff and her fingers are too tense. ' _How distasteful_.'

Daikoku clearly has very divergent thoughts on her performance, though.

"Wonderful!" he gushes, his goatee almost quivering in his excitement. "While most students cannot even hit the board, you nearly hit dead-center on your first attempt!"

Daikoku, she had long ago discovered, is apparently a man of many words. His voice only manifesting as a buzzing in the corner of her subconscious, she rotates and shakes her wrists, flexing her fingers. Palming a kunai in her grip, she takes aim again, this time exhaling a quiet hiss through her teeth before flicking her wrist. The weapon thuds into the bullseye with a satisfying _thwack_.

"Stunning." The man's whisper of awe draws her attention back to him. His eyes wide and shining with delight, he continues, "Tell me, Sakura-kun. Did your mother teach you?"

"Uchiha Mikoto?"

"Yes, Mikoto-san!" Daikoku's eyes light up at the mention of the Uchiha matriarch. "Her skills with shurinkenjutsu are unparalleled and second to none, truly!"

 _'Interesting_.' She tucks the little slip of information into the back of her mind.

"My mother did not teach me," she answers. "Practice does not make perfect, as many believe the trite saying. Practice simply reduces imperfection. Talent is a gift which everyone possesses, yet some fail to explore and sharpen it to its prime."

"You're absolutely right, Sakura-kun." Daikoku beams. "Nonetheless, I am unsurprised that you've inherited her adeptness with the art. Speaking of Mikoto-san, I have a little something to say to her."

"I could pass it along, if you wish," Sakura offers, already suspecting the contents of his message.

"Ah, but it would be better if I clear it up to her face-to-face. She should be fully informed on this one." His grin gains a sly edge. "Wouldn't hurt to see a pretty face, too."

Sakura inwardly cringes.

[ _martyr_ ]

When the class is herded back to the classroom for lunch, Sakura is glad that nobody approaches her as she eats her meal, even if she does catch several glances borderline on curiosity and wariness. If what she thinks Daikoku is going to say to her mother is accurate, she won't be staying here too long. She has no time to forge meaningless bonds lest they distract her from her aspirations.

As the end of the day draws closer, they move on to kata. For once, Sakura finds her mind pleasantly blank as she stretches her muscles and limbs to their limits, feeling ounces of stress and other unpleasantries ease out of her form through her fluid movements.

Everything is going as planned. She has no need to worry and fret—for now, anyways.

Daikoku reminds them to bring water bottles for sparring tomorrow before dismissing them. He then walks Sakura to the front steps of the building, and Mikoto's smile drops when she sees the man beside her daughter.

"Daikoku-san." Mikoto inclines her head. "It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has." He executes a short bow. "No doubt dinner is at home waiting, so I shall keep this short. The reason I am here is because I would like to discuss something with you."

"Presumably concerning my daughter, ne?" Mikoto directs a look at Sakura of what she hopes is exasperated fondness, but what is conveyed is more or less thinly veiled weariness.

"Your daughter has demonstrated prodigious talent today in our class," Daikoku tells her.

"On the very first day?" Mikoto asks, treading carefully. "Just what did you have your class do on their very first day in the Academy?"

"War is on the brink of breaking." There is a touch of hardness that Sakura has never heard from him before, and she has to remind herself that this jolly plump man before her is a chūnin. "Everyone knows that the other villages have always envied Konohagakure, and the Sandaime Tsuchikage's hatred for Konoha burns as fiercely as one of Fugaku-san's famed fireballs, I'm afraid."

"There is tension in the village," her mother says. "The air grows thick with it."

"And when war calls, shinobi rise to answer." His voice is austere, and yet Sakura detects a layer of remorse under the solemnity. "Iwa's ranks is far greater than ours. Konoha, with our massive shortage of manpower, can spare no man, woman, or child."

 _We cannot afford to spare yours,_ Mikoto hears. _Uchiha heiress or not._

"You wish to whisk my child away and forge her into a living weapon to use on the battlefield, and you have come to me for my permission." Mikoto's face twists as a cold smile warps her lips. "What on earth makes you think I will assent?"

"In the end, it will not be me who you give your assent to if you continue to resist," Daikoku says. "Raw talent like your daughter's is ostentatious, and there is no doubt that people other than I will start to take notice. People stronger than I, much more powerful than I, and ten times more dangerous than I. They will be nothing short of eager to get their hands on her and shape her into whatever they see fit to benefit Konoha. Do not be foolish enough to think that nobody is watching already."

"Cease your dogmatic manner this instant!" she hisses, eyes flickering between black and red.

"I speak nothing but the earnest truth." Sakura gives him credit for not flinching and keeping his voice steady. "Better to prepare her for the worst than to be forced to give her up at the last second. It will be too late, then."

"She is my baby girl," Mikoto whispers. "My tiny, two-years-old baby girl."

"Your tiny, two-years-old baby girl is a prodigy," he says without any smidgen of softness. "One who might grow up to be even more dangerous than the son of the White Fang."

"She is only a child." Already, she can feel herself losing. This marks another battle she cannot win. "She is only a child…please… _my child—_ "

"Everyone makes sacrifices in the face of war," Daikoku snaps. "The class will be taught taijutsu tomorrow, and should your daughter present another extraordinary performance again, her fate may as well be written in stone." His tone softens as he regains ahold of himself, looking apologetic for losing his composure. "War devours us all, Mikoto-san. I…I am truly sorry."

He walks away, gait rigid and stiff, and any notion Sakura has about Funeno Daikoku being nothing more than a jovial, pudgy chūnin is dispelled. He possesses a surprising amount of callousness, and she wonders why he has not made more effort to advance to a higher rank; he certainly has enough ruthlessness for it.

Mikoto's eyes follow his green vest, jagged and bitter, and she is suddenly seized by the urge to chase after him and fall to her knees and beg him not to take her child away and ' _please don't take my baby away please_ —'

Instead, she turns to her daughter, teeth biting into the walls of her mouth hard enough to draw blood.

"Let's go home."

[ _martyr_ ]

The walk on the way back is rarefied with a heavy and stifling silence until Sakura opens her mouth, intending to diffuse the tension that has been hovering over the both of them for the past few days.

"Aren't you proud of me, kaa-san?" she asks, gaze square. She knows it's unfair to play on her mother's emotions like this, especially with her pregnancy maturing into the middle stages—but Mikoto needs to come to a decision. One way or another, something has to give. Best be now than too late.

"O-Of course I am, Sakura-chan." Her mother nods rapidly, and Sakura is relieved to find her tone scrupulous and honest. "It's just…" She looks ambivalent, voice trailing off as her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

"Just what, kaa-san?" Sakura presses, not unkindly. "If you're proud of me, then why are you so displeased? Should you not be happier at the prospect of my rapid progress?"

"Displeased? No, no!" Mikoto shakes her head briskly, silken hair whipping around in disarray. "You are growing stronger, Sakura-chan, and I am proud, _beyond_ proud. You are showing so much promise and talent, and it is outstanding—"

"Then what is the reason for your discomfort, if I may ask?" Sakura asks softly, with the feeling of backing a tentative animal into a corner.

"Because..." Mikoto sighs. "Because strength comes with a price. You are being ripped away from my arms to take turn in the game of killing and dying, and I cannot—I _cannot_ bear the thought of it, Sakura-chan, you must understand." A frantic and distraught edge clings to her words. "I _cannot_ bear the thought of losing you."

"Do you have so little faith in my abilities as to suggest that I would die much sooner than later?" Sakura inquires, quirking a skeptical eyebrow even as a tangible sphere of warmth expands within her chest. ' _Ah, to be surrounded by a mother's unfathomable love again…'_

"I do not think that you will die so easily." Mikoto flashes a wry smile. "But then again, when has it ever been up to us? The measure of life and death is beyond mere mortals such as you and I, and in the end, death still claims all."

Sakura slips her hand into her mother's. "You do not have to worry, kaa-san." Her gaze falls to Mikoto's enlarged stomach. "I will grow stronger to protect all my precious people."

"I know you will. And that is exactly why I worry, Sakura-chan." Mikoto lets out a sad little laugh, lightly squeezing her daughter's hand in her larger one.

Sakura looks at her mother quizzically, but when she does not expand on her cryptic vagueness, she continues, "Then I will grow so strong that you will never have a reason to worry anymore, I promise you."

Mikoto's reply come in the form of a tightening of her hand around her daughter's, and the action itself screams of wretchedness and desperation, as if holding her to her promise.

Neither of them lets go for the remainder of the trip.

[ _martyr_ ]

"How was the Academy?" Fugaku inquires later that night during dinner. "Did you make a good impression?"

Opening her mouth to reply before shutting it again at the disapproving look Mikoto shoots her, she chews furiously and swallows before replying, "The threat of war has really got the curriculum moving fast. It's only our very first day and we've already been introduced to shurinkenjutsu and several easier kata."

When Sakura had been enrolled into the Academy during her former life, it'd taken weeks and weeks of written tests on geography, science, and mathematics before they'd finally moved on to taijutsu and the basic handling of shuriken and kunai.

"When I went to pick her up after, Daikoku-san was there. He told me that the students will have sparring matches tomorrow, and if Sakura-chan puts on a good performance, they will have her move up to more advanced classes," Mikoto says.

"Good, good." Fugaku takes a gracious sip of his tea.

"The students there will be even older and stronger," Mikoto says to Sakura, not before sending a small glare at her oblivious husband. "You'll be another step closer to graduation."

Sakura nods, poking her chopsticks at her food wordlessly before saying, "On another note, I think they should incorporate the rudiments of medical ninjutsu into the program."

Her parents blink in surprise.

"You know…" Fugaku says contemplatively with a considering tilt to his head. "Senju Tsunade once said something quite similar."

"It will definitely lower the death rate." Sakura nods. "Students should be taught the basics of stitching, disinfecting, and herbal remedies. Those who are interested in more advanced techniques can sign up for the medical program."

"That's where the problems lie," Fugaku explains. "Medical ninjutsu is challenging in the first place. Even the easiest techniques are at least C-rank. Most ninjas do not have precise enough control over their chakra to perform those tasks. The other factor is the absence of the greatest medic-nin in the world, Senju Tsunade."

Judging by the downward pull of his lips, Fugaku isn't very fond of the woman at the moment. He isn't the only one. Sakura knows that many scorn the Slug Princess for being an irresponsible coward, neglecting her duties to the village. She only manages to bite back the words she wants to lash out with to defend her mentor just in time.

"Ever since she left, the numbers of Konoha's medics have been slowly dwindling either from the lack of knowledge, aptitude, or resources," he says, shaking his head. "Nevertheless, our hospitals are still ahead of other Hidden Villages'."

Sakura knows all this, of course. She just needs to raise the awareness of others, too.

"From this discussion, am I right to surmise that you have developed an interest in medical ninjutsu?" Mikoto asks.

"Hai, kaa-san. I believe that it will aid me in great times of need, and will be another step to ensure my growth as a shinobi. I've decided to make several trips to the library to bring back a few scrolls to look over."

Her parents exchange bemused glances; it's the first time they've seen her so ebullient.

"Two-years-old and already thinking like a true shinobi." Fugaku can't help but beam with the radiance of a thousand suns. "My daughter indeed."

"Two-years-old and already—" Mikoto cuts herself off, inhaling sharply. A moment later, she sniffs daintily. "She's _my_ daughter, too. No doubt she's inherited my brains and intellect."

Her husband raises his teacup to his lips and hides a smirk behind the porcelain surface.

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: How do you like mamabear Mikoto and proud papa Fugaku? And in case you don't remember, Funeno Daikoku is the man who reminisced about Itachi's time as a student when Sasuke first enrolled into the Academy. He stated that Itachi was the best student he'd ever had and expected great things from his little brother as well. He did not die in canon. Ah, and speaking of Itachi…patience, my lovely readers, for he's coming up soon. Very soon.

Feedback is appreciated!


	5. iv: graduation

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

2/5/2017

Shanghai

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: Woaaah, this fic has surpassed 4.5k views already! Thank you all so much! See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter iv.-**

 _graduation_

* * *

"Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don't belong." -Anonymous

* * *

Even before the first shaft of sunlight has stretched across the sky, she is already up and arduously making up for all the time she's lost. She limits herself to taijutsu only, for she does not want to run the risk of exhausting her chakra reserves by carrying out strenuous tasks her undersized body is not yet ready to perform. How humiliating it would be to tire out even before the day has truly begun.

Only when dawn inevitably encroaches upon the village does she allow herself to return to her bed.

[ _martyr_ ]

True to his words, the very first thing Daikoku does this morning is to lead the class out to the training grounds for their taijutsu matches. The class follows him with such alacrity and avidness that they amuse Sakura with their hyperactive antics.

In the end, she is partnered up with another girl whose name she has already forgotten and whose snowy eyes blatantly give her away as a Hyūga. Her forehead is bare and unblemished from the Caged Bird Curse Seal. The girl flashes a slight smile that she returns with a nod.

"Form the Seal of Confrontation," Daikoku instructs as the both of them step up when it is their turn. They are the last pair. "Ah, Mitsuha-kun, remember that this is a strictly taijutsu-only spar, so please refrain from using your Byakugan or any special abilities you've acquired from your clan. The same goes for your Sharingan, Sakura-kun. And you may start now."

The girl immediately charges forward, a fist already cocked back.

 _'Predictable_ ,' Sakura thinks as she steps aside to avoid the punch effortlessly, letting her tumble past.

Her opponent's blows are sloppy and poorly timed, and so far she is proving to be nowhere near Neji's level when he'd been an Academy student. _However_ , Sakura muses when she stoops to let a hand fly over her head, and Mitsuha twists fast enough to avoid face-planting the ground when she loses her footing. ' _She might just give Hinata a bit of a hard time when she'd been in the Academy, but probably only because Hinata had been too meek and gentle-natured.'_

True, the girl is taller and larger and several years her senior. Her unique stance suggests that she has already started her training in the Jūken style. But what Sakura lacks in size and height she more than makes up for in speed and agility. Not to mention she has decades of real battle experience in her arsenal, and perhaps that is what helps most of all.

It is too easy to make use and take advantage of her diminutive size. She might've have trouble maneuvering these toddler limbs at first, but after more than two years of stretching various muscles and popping random joints like a puppeteer might at a marionette, to say that she's quite proud that she's adjusted rather well will suffice.

Unexpectedly, after Sakura once again slides beneath another fist, Mitsuha suddenly draws back, panting and flushed with exertion.

"Do not play around with me like this," she spits between unsteady breaths. Eyebrows drawn down in a scowl, the veins around her eyes threaten to pulse in her evident displeasure. Only then does Sakura realized that for all her evasive choreography, she's also unintentionally managed to offend her opponent.

She is like an elusive mosquito that cannot be swatted away.

"I apologize, Hyūga-san," she replies. "It was not my intention to make you feel belittled."

Somewhat mollified, Mitsuha jerks her head in a stiff nod before lunging back at her. This time, Sakura doesn't just dance away from the blow. She ducks under the outstretched arm and slams a fist into her unguarded ribs. The girl gasps and stumbles away, eyes wide with surprise and pain. She must not have expected so much power behind such a tiny fist.

Sakura is suddenly highly aware of the many eyes trained on her—Daikoku's in particular. It's flattering, since she's never merited much attention during her youth. Her teammates had garnered so much fixation and raptness that there were many times that she'd felt like a speck of dust lost in the vast sea of their brilliance.

 _'Not anymore. Never again. It's now your turn to get a good look at my back!'_

When Mitsuha dives to the ground in an attempt to sweep her legs out from underneath, Sakura nimbly hops away and spins in a roundhouse kick. To Mitsuha's credit, the girl throws herself to one side just in time so that her foot only grazes her shoulder. The action itself is graceless and clumsy, yet she's successfully avoided the brunt of the kick.

Now that Sakura starts to deal her own series of offensive strikes, Mitsuha quickly finds herself on defensive, desperate and unable to find any openings. All it takes is one misstep and a swift, adroit hook to the ankle before she finds herself sprawled on her back, spots dancing along her vision and a ringing in both ears as she faces the sky.

A moment later, her eyes clear and focus on the face hovering above her, dangling dark hair, black and green eyes startlingly bright against fair skin, and an outstretched hand that she graciously accepts. She lets herself be pulled back onto her feet as her ears once again regains their ability to hear, and they fill with the voice of Daikoku-sensei announcing excitedly to the class about how their match demonstrated great sportsmanship and how beautiful and well-timed that ankle-hook was, _blah blah blah_.

"The Seal of Reconciliation, please, ladies," Daikoku says as he turns back to them when he has quite finished his inspirational speech.

Sakura is glad that Mitsuha doesn't seem to harbor much resentment as the other girl is quick to reach out and wrap her two fingers around her own. ' _Quite mature for her age. Not just emotionally, too.'_ Because no matter how drastly she'd downplayed her skills—so much that the effort, or the lack thereof, had almost pained her on some level—no normal fresh Academy student could still have lasted as long as Sakura had let the fight drag on.

Daikoku claps to redirect the class's attention back to himself before he leads them back to the building. As the other students trickle into the classroom, he stops Sakura at the doorway.

"I will be moved up, yes?" she asks before he can say anything else yet.

"Yes, I have deemed it indispensable and absolutely necessary to put you under a more advanced curriculum to ensure your growth as a shinobi," he confirms as he leads her through corners and halls before stopping in front of a door. "It would only impede your development if you were to stay in a class that is evidently under your skill level."

"And in order to serve Konoha to the fullest, right?" she queries, her tone even yet eyes penetrating and knowing. "War spares no one, after all."

He shifts uncomfortably, and Sakura is surprised to find herself satisfied with his discomfort. It seems she hasn't yet forgiven him for how he'd treated her mother yesterday. Necessary or not, he could've phrased a lot of things much gentler than he had done.

"Ah, yes. That, too." Daikoku gives her a strange, almost rueful smile before clearing his throat purposefully. "Anyways, I've already talked to your new teacher, so just go straight in while I sign some forms."

She nods, and is just raising a hand to knock the door when he once again clears his throat meaningfully from behind.

"Sakura-kun…" he says when she looks over her shoulder, thick fingers tugging at his goatee. "I sincerely wish you the best of luck."

The frost in her gaze thaws ever so slightly before she turns back to rap her knuckles thrice against the door.

"Come in." The voice is low and muffled but unmistakably female.

She enters.

[ _martyr_ ]

Walking away from closed doors and opening new ones to different classrooms with different classmates and different teachers soon becomes a routine she is quickly growing accustomed to. Even though it is a true testament to how fast her growing prowess is being acknowledged, she finds herself quickly becoming sick and tired of the familiarity of it all. Everything is whirling so fast and being tipped completely out of correlation.

Over the past months, she has steadily advanced through different classes at an alarming rate, each one more challenging and higher-leveled than the last—until the ineluctable moment arrived when there is no longer another class for her to transfer to. She has torn through them all in her rise for power. By the time her third birthday is a week or so away, she is placed in a class that is scheduled to graduate this very month.

It has only taken her within a year's time to graduate.

It's honestly pretty unbelievable and surreal that all of this is seriously happening. Shinobi and civilians alike cannot wrap their minds around the fact that the authorities are actually allowing and ordering a little girl to take part in war and fight in the name of her village. A little girl who, despite being famed as the prodigious Uchiha heiress, is nevertheless still a child— _barely_ a child.

Many of them are appalled at how indisputably desperate Konoha is becoming.

 _Oh,_ some whispers. _How the mighty have fallen._

They think she is heading straight for her impending demise, and they silently mourn for another young soul castaway.

 _And the battle's won, but the child is lost._

[ _martyr_ ]

After much unrelenting persuasion and many shards of red flitting in the depth of dark eyes, Fugaku is finally and effectively dissuaded from his idea—now ripped from his hands and crushed to the ground and trampled in the dust, thankfully—of inviting every Uchiha clan member to celebrate both her third birthday and upcoming graduation simultaneously.

Sakura is wholly content and fully gratified with just the four of them seated around the dining table: herself, her mother, her father, and her unborn little brother. There is an ineffable and profound feeling of being surrounded by a family again that swells up within her, and the one or two tears she cannot blink back is waved off as effects from the lit candle.

"Well, now's a good time to make a wish, then." Mikoto chuckles from her spot, a hand resting protectively over her belly. Her stomach is now larger than ever, straining even against her pregnancy robes, and Sakura's mouth twitches as she imagines baby Itachi alive and kicking inside there. On Sakura's other side, Fugaku has his arms crossed contentedly over his broad chest. Catching her gaze, he inclines his head for her to carry out the act, lips bowed up in a rare smile.

And so she laces her fingers together, bows her head over them, closes her eyes, and she wishes for a better future, a brighter world, a safer place, where children aren't found in warzones and where parents live long enough to play with grandchildren and where funerals are only for old age and—and— _and_ —

A draft of cold air, or perhaps, a sudden absence of warmth, caresses her face just as her mother says, "Happy third birthday, Sakura-chan."

Surprised and confused, her eyes open to see vanishing wisps of smoke from the quenched candle fire. When had she…? She had not meant to do that so soon. She hadn't finished yet. She hadn't finished making her wish. It wasn't enough. ' _It's never enough_.'

"Equal parts, please." Fugaku hands her the plastic knife. "Or you can slice yourself the largest piece, if that's what you want. After all, it's your birthday."

Still addled and unsettled, her movements are sluggish and methodical. If her parents notice anything amiss, they don't say anything.

 _'Will it ever be enough?'_

[ _martyr_ ]

The man towering in front of her dons the standard green vest of Konoha jōnin. Aside from his clothing, a pair of beady mud-colored eyes so like a rat's, and the kunai he so nonchalantly twirls around a finger—the scar is his most prominent feature. Two-and-a-half inches wide and twice as long, it stretches grotesquely across the entire length of his face from chin to hairline, twisting his lips into a perpetual frown and bisecting a thick eyebrow. Pale and stark against his dark skin, it naturally draws unwanted attention.

Even without her Sharingan, it is easy to see through the henge. It is only self-preservation that squashes her urge to reach out and expel the image with a single finger. As much as it rakes at her pride and dignity, she is aware of how that is not the bottom line of the lesson they wish to impart on the students. She can already tell where this is all leading to.

"Do you know who I am, brat?" he asks, voice coarse and gravelly and sending her eardrums vibrating uncomfortably. She recognizes the technique: A C-rank technique that can be amplified to blast eardrums into shreds, thus rendering it to B-rank with the level of chakra control and wind-natured chakra required—yet all she can focus on is how it reminds her of dripping underground tunnels and of moonlight reflecting off pale reptilian scales. ' _Ah, the good ol' days.'_

"A jōnin, sir," she replies as she trickles chakra into her ears to ward off the effects of his jutsu.

"You want to fight in the war, brat?" he pulls his lips back in a sneer, revealing chipped and yellow-stained teeth that can be passed off as rows of rotten corn. Another illusion. She gives him an unimpressed look.

"I want to graduate, jōnin-san." There is no hint of fear or nervousness in her tone. She has faced and annihilated enemies ten times more dangerous than this nameless man before her.

"You graduate, you fight." He makes a growling, huffing sound. It takes her a moment to realize that he's laughing. "You graduate, you stand on the battlefield. You graduate, you kill or be killed. You graduate, you stand your ground and don't fucking run away like a sniveling little coward when they come for you. You ain't gonna be no hero."

Even with the distance put between them, her keen nose still catches a whiff of the reek of booze and smoke in his breath. Another trick or not, it has its desired effect, for it takes a conscious effort to keep her nose from scrunching up in distaste. ' _A little overkill, don't you think, jōnin-san?'_

"Ah, yes. I was aware of that." A corner of her mouth twitches. "Thank you for the reminder, nonetheless. It was very kind and thoughtful of you, jōnin-san." She is nothing but polite. Mikoto would have approved, really.

The man is apparently not as kind as her mother, it seems. His scar darkens to a rippling bronze as he straightens up against the wall, eyes narrowing menacingly to murky slits. Her own eyes fix on the kunai in his grasp. Faster and faster it spins until it becomes nothing more than a gleaming disc of silver.

"You think that's funny? You think you're so clever, don't you?" he snarls, voice condescending and filled with cutting derision. She can sense that it's not all an act now. "Out there, they don't spare children. They're gonna eat you raw and watch you bleed out. Nobody's afraid of a short, scrawny, two-year-old little girl toddling in a diaper and armed with some pacifiers."

Without so much of a warning other than a flick of his hand, the kunai sails through the air. Without any real harmful intent behind it, it will only slice off a few strands of hair or graze an ear—if she allows it to, that is. The intimidation tactic works poorly on Sakura, and she does not even blink before her hand snaps up to close around the steely hilt.

"For the record," she says, voice without a single hitch, mismatched eyes unblinking. "I turned three-years-old just a little over a week ago, jōnin-san. There was even a nice cake and all. Very exciting."

Silver blooms from her hand and there is a dull thud as the kunai he'd thrown at her sinks into the wall beside his head.

There is nothing but complete and utter silence as she tenses for a reaction. A violent retaliation, perhaps. It is unlikely that he will hurt her, but with war now fully waged, and especially with everyone high-strung and constantly vigilant and peering over their shoulders every so often—she might've just crossed the line with her bold move.

However, he surprises her when all he does is thumb his neck in a tired manner and scoff, shaking his head. And then, reaching into his vest and pulling out a piece of metal-plated cloth, he drawls, "Here's your hitai-ate, brat."

Just for old time's sake, she ties it around her head and wears it once again as a hairband. The weight is soothingly familiar as she walks out of the room in higher spirits and with a lighter heart.

 _'One step closer.'_

The man follows her exit with thoughtful eyes, and it isn't until the door has shut that a burning sting suddenly registers at the tip of his right ear. Startled, he raises a hand to touch it—and it comes away wet and red.

[ _martyr_ ]

To her bemusement, someone else is waiting for her in her mother's place. From the wide-collared shirt she wears, it is easy to deduce that she's a member of the Uchiha clan.

The gratifying delectation that had been fizzing pleasantly within ever since her graduation instantly turns to ice water and trickles down to her toes.

This can only mean one thing, then.

"Please return home quickly, Sakura-san!" the woman adjures hurriedly, arms flailing all over the place. The sight would have been rather comical if not for the severity of the situation. "Make haste! Your mother has gone into labor!"

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: Yep, I borrowed 'Mitsuha' from _Kimi no Na wa (Your Name)_. To those who haven't seen it yet, it's a great movie with beautiful animation and soundtrack! And again, some people have been asking for Itachi and Shisui. Well, baby Itachi is definitely going to appear in the next chapter, as you can tell, aaand Shisui will eventually come up. It's all in good time, people! They're mentioned up there for a reason, after all. Urgh, and because winter vacation is a few days away from ending, don't expect me to update as regularly! Don't worry, I won't be abandoning this story. _Believe it!_ But in the meantime, I gotta catch up on my winter vacation homework. _Urgh_.

Feedback is appreciated!


	6. v: team

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

2/12/2017

Shanghai

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: Thank you all for 7k views! Your support really keeps me going! Oh, and because some readers have been protesting about how Sakura is too young to be so skilled and thus makes the story too unrealistic, I would like to clarify it here:

Sakura being reincarnated and time being reversed has made this story unrealistic from the very start. As I have said before, being reincarnated has not made her into the same person she once was. The audience has no idea what she has gone through and what she is fully capable of performing. There is still a huge cloud of mystery shrouded around Sakura from the readers. With her full memory and some abilities still intact, she is the furthest thing from a normal child. If canon Kakashi can graduate at the age of five, then why can't reincarnated Sakura do it at three? No, this is not a shamelessly-give-Sakura-power-ups-until-she-becomes-damn-near-invincible story. No, you'll see that she isn't perfect. She's going to make mistakes, and she's going to pay direly for them. This is a story about how a girl changes the world for the better, and how the world changes her in turn. I hope I've cleared up the matter now.

And of course, most of you were considerate in your reviews/constructive criticism, and I thank you for your kindness. Others, well…not so much.

Also, _Munchausen34_ made a fanart on DeviantArt! Links don't seem to be working anymore so the URL is on my profile page if you wanna check it out.

See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter v.-**

 _team_

* * *

 _Hiraeth_ (n.)

A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was;

the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

pronunciation | 'hEr-rIth (HEER-eyeth)

* * *

"Hokage-sama," the man says as he looks up from the files held in his hands, tone imploring and almost pleading. "Do I have to?"

Smoke puffs from his lips as the leader of the village draws back from his pipe to let out a hearty laugh. "Ah, I should have known what your response would be. Regardless, you know the requirements for Jōnin Commander: you have to take at least one genin team under your wing. You are still aspiring for that position; I hope?"

"Yeah, yeah." The man casts his eyes back down to the papers, skimming through them again. "You sure you really trust me with this?"

"It was a hard decision," the older man admits. "I did consider many other candidates."

"Yet, in the end," the man quirks a skeptical eyebrow. "You still chose me."

"Your skills are exemplary and your intellect even more so, making you one of the most powerful shinobi Konoha has to offer. I fully believe you're the best man suited for the job. In addition, you'll need the experience one day when you're commanding an entire force instead of leading a trio of children."

In response, the man only sighs mournfully, a hand rising to tug wearily at his goatee. _'_ _The Third Shinobi World War, clan issues, Yoshino, deer herding—and now, this.'_

"How troublesome."

[ _martyr_ ]

When Sakura smoothens a gentle palm gingerly over his head, his eyes crack open slightly to reveal dark slits before fluttering shut again, a drowsy sigh escaping through his parted mouth. His eyelashes, almost feminine in their length and thickness, cast dusky shadows across his cherubic cheeks. His head is mostly bare, but any wisps of hair she can spot appears as dark as her own and paints a stark contrast to his fair skin.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" her mother whispers, a fatigued yet blissful smile gracing her lips, one hand clasped in her husband's. "His name is Itachi, by the way. It was your father's idea."

At this moment, the stern, austere lines usually composed of Fugaku's face are shallow and softened around the edges. In what seems to be an unconscious action, his thumb moves on its own accord, stroking soothing circles around the back of his wife's hand. His steady gaze is fixated on his son's dozing face, for once mellow and devoid of his usual severity.

At the heartwarming sight, Sakura hides a smile behind a curtain of dark hair.

"Yes, he is," she replies. "Those eyelashes are long and lush enough to make any girl green with jealousy, ne, kaa-san?"

Mikoto huffs out a startled laugh before breaking off into a bout of coughs.

"Sakura, go fetch your mother a cup of water," Fugaku behests, eyes flickering over to meet hers before returning to his infant son.

Knowing the man, she had thought that the first words her father would utter to her would be something along the lines of concerning her graduation. It's a pleasant surprise, really. When she returns, she finds all three of them already asleep—Itachi in the crib, Mikoto on the bed, and Fugaku hunched over her form on his seat. ' _Seems like there's no dinner tonight, then.'_

Quietly, she sets the glass down on a nearby table before padding over to the crib. Hovering over her little brother, she does not repress the telltale prickling in her eyes as a strange, heartfelt feeling of bone-deep protectiveness and possessiveness stirs within her. It is in this moment that she knows, without a single ounce of doubt, that if need be, she will give her life to protect this tiny, precious being before her just as readily as he'd given his. As a single child in her former life, she had never known a sibling's love, although truthfully she'd started viewing Naruto as the brother she'd never had since a very long time ago.

Itachi is a calm baby, not unlike her, and she loves him all the more for it. Even though he is now nothing but a mere newborn infant, she still cannot stifle the reverence she feels for the man who had accepted disgrace in the place of honor, for the man who had made the ultimate sacrifice, for the man whose love for his brother was so great he had died with a smile on his face—

 _'And now,'_ Sakura promises him silently, ' _you will be loved just as tenderly, passionately, and fearlessly. You've been so,_ so _brave, otouto.'_

She pulls a chair beside Fugaku's, quietly as to not disturb her sleeping family. Leaning against her father's side and laying her head on the mattress beside her mother's abdomen, she soon slips into a fitful slumber, awakening only once in the middle of the night when Mikoto, shifting in her sleep and mumbling nonsense, slides a hand atop of her head.

[ _martyr_ ]

Sunlight seeps through the window and bathes the room in warm illumination.

"Sakura. Sakura, wake up."

Her father's quiet yet firm voice draws her from her sleep, and she awakens with an inelegant snort. He holds a finger to his lips, motioning with his chin at her mother who is still asleep on the bed. Skin pallid, lips chapped, hair scattered disorderly, chest rising and falling with even breaths—Sakura thinks her mother has never looked more lovely in her beautifully disheveled state.

"You graduated, did you not?" Fugaku squints at her, and her attention returns back to him.

She nods. "Yes, tou-sama, I did."

A rather awkward silence ensues as her father continues to hold her gaze unfalteringly with the long-suffering air of a man lying in wait. Of what he expects from her though, she does not quite understand.

"Tou-sama…?" she trails off uncertainly. ' _What do you want?'_

He sighs, and Sakura gets the impression that if he were a lesser man, he would be rolling his eyes by now. "If you have indeed graduated, then should you not be meeting your genin team and jōnin sensei today?"

Oh. _Oh_. She blinks. ' _Oh,_ _shit—'_

Before she can scramble up and away, Fugaku halts her with a hand to her shoulder. "I made breakfast. It's already on the table."

"Thank you, tou-sama," Sakura says as she speedily hauls the chair back to its original place beside the table, and then winces when the wood scrapes abhorrently across the ground, thus earning her another reprimanding glance from her father.

"Take a shower, too," Fugaku adds. "It is still early morning."

"Hai, tou-sama." Running a hand through her hair, she grimaces as knots entangle her fingers, wrenching painfully at her sensitive scalp. "What time is it now?"

"Six. You have an hour."

"Then I'll be going now." Sakura bows swiftly, nearly tripping over her feet in her haste. "See you in the afternoon, tou-sama."

Fugaku nods, attention already reverted back to his sleeping wife and infant son, and it isn't until she's set a foot across the doorway that he calls her back.

"Yes, tou-sama?"

After several prolonged seconds of contemplative silence, he says, "You've done good. I'm proud of you."

His words strike a match of genuine happiness inside of her. To have someone she really looks up to acknowledge and accredit her efforts never fails to gratify her, especially if they are coming from a person like Fugaku who she knows barely hands out candid praises.

"Thank you, tou-san." She smiles at him, and doesn't waste time in finding out if the widening of his eyes is the result of her open display of affection or her change to the more informal honorific before hurrying out of the room.

[ _martyr_ ]

Refreshed after a shower and a full meal, she jogs toward the building in her usual attire of a grey-colored, wide-collared shirt with the Uchiha crest stitched brazenly on the back, and a pair of back shorts not unlike the ones she used to wear in a time that seems so long ago now, bandages wrapped to her toes from both knees down.

The classroom is already clamorous and abuzz with loud, incited chattering when she walks in. The children are so wound up in their discussions and avidness that they do not even spare more than one glance at Sakura like they normally would have.

 _'I remember how excited we were, too.'_ Sakura smiles crookedly at the image of Naruto and Sasuke's memorable first kiss. While she'd been utterly enraged at the sight in the past, she'd give anything to see the two of them here now.

"Alright, everyone!" Only several heads turn when their teacher storms up to the front, a hand aglow with chakra pressed to her throat, amplifying her voice. "I know you're all excited—so am I, because you're my last class before I retire—but we won't be getting anywhere if you don't quiet down this instant."

As she announces the teams, Sakura can't help but notice how much younger the fresh genin are than her class in the past. Certainly not twelve or thirteen like they had been, her classmates seem more around the ages of eight to ten. No doubt she hadn't been the only one to be pushed up for showing the slightest glimpse of talent.

"Yamanaka Mika, Inuzuka Kaito, and Uchiha Sakura."

She perks up, glancing around the room for her new teammates. Thankfully, the two names are among the few that she recognizes. Across the room, Mika gives her a shy, nervous smile before dropping her eyes to her desk. In the front, Kaito shifts around to meet her gaze before turning back just as quickly, but not before she catches the glare that passes over his face. She has a good idea why that might be, but she'll deal with it later.

 _'Well, this is rare.'_ A team of two girls and a boy is always unexpected, since fewer girls sign up for the career of shinobi. Even the entirety of the Konoha Eleven had consisted of teams of two boys and one girl. In this timeline, though, the issue of war can probably serve as the general explanation for the change.

"Room two-oh-seven."

[ _martyr_ ]

While a team composed of an Uchiha, Inuzuka, and Yamanaka will serve quite splendidly as a tracker team or a group of hunter-nin, it seems a little unlikely, though. Because if that had been the true intention, they would have replaced her with an Aburame or Hyūga, and she'd seen quite a handful of clan members in her graduating class. Now that she's giving it some serious thoughts, a jutsu-theft squad seems more than likely.

Her current team will certainly be much more effective than one she and Uzuki Yūgao had formed, because no matter how powerful a duo they'd made together, the absence of an Uchiha had made all the difference. The memory of the purple-haired and brown-eyed woman drags up images she'd rather not dwell upon. What a notorious pair they'd been, feared and revered across the Five Great Shinobi Countries, until they'd finally bit off more than they could chew and she'd returned beaten and bloody with Yūgao's head sealed in a scroll.

Forcibly scattering her dark thoughts, she sweeps her eyes across the room. Mika is seated beside the window, but she doubts that the girl is actually looking at the view instead of turning her face away from her teammates. She may have the common pupiless blue eyes of the Yamanaka and her hair is only a few tints darker than Ino's platinum blonde, but her timorous poise and tremulous tone reminds her too much of Hinata, and she thinks she's already developing a soft spot for the other female in her team.

Her other teammate is seated just a few seats to her right, staring unfocusedly at the desk before him with a strangely solemn air shrouded around his form. His dog paces to and fro at his feet, occasionally stopping to scratch behind an ear with a hind leg. Speaking of the boy, she is slightly confused by his uncharacteristic silence. Even for a Inuzuka, Kaito is naturally boisterous and popular among his classmates with his easy grin and devil-may-care attitude. She's never talked to him before, but as an odd mixture of Kiba and Naruto, he's managed to garner her attention more than once.

As always at the memories of her former life, a strong current of wistfulness and longing and if-onlys surges through Sakura before she slices into it.

 _'Stop it,'_ she tells herself viciously, resolutely. ' _This is your life now.'_

Sakura then startles to attention when the harsh screech of a chair breaks into the stillness of the room.

"Hey, Uchiha," Kaito says as he stands up from his seat, hands planted on the table, face twisted in a scowl. His dog leaps onto the desk beside him, fur raised and bristling along his arched back.

"Kaito-san," Mika starts timidly, turning around. "I don't think—"

"Listen to me and listen well," the boy barks at Sakura, ignoring the other girl as she shrinks into herself again. "I don't care if you're a prodigy. I don't care if you're an Uchiha. Hell, I don't even care if you're the heiress."

He raises a rigid finger at her, but for all his bravado, Sakura can see his near-imperceptible trembling, and the slightest hint of fear and hesitation lurking behind the defiance in his eyes. He may be a good actor, but he still has a long, long way to go if he wishes to fool someone like her.

"I don't care about any of that. If you expect me to bow at your feet and kiss your ass—" Here, Mika lets out a scandalized gasp as Sakura's eyebrows inch towards her hairline. "—and be at your beck and call to do your every bidding—then you're dead wrong. You got that, Uchiha? I'm not gonna be treating you any more favorably than I treat other people. My respect isn't handed out so freely. If you want to earn it, then you have to do something to deserve it."

Finished with his tirade, his chest rises unevenly with heavy breaths, white-faced with anger and what might be, perhaps, fear. Fear for what she might do to rebuke and to retaliate. The mere thought of herself striking back in what will obviously be an uneven and unjust match brings a frown to her face. She has always hated bullies, and she's never wanted to appear like one.

Slowly, she rises from her own chair. Kaito seems to lose a little of his fire as he falters visibly, arms tensing on the table. His dog's tail wavers, lowering, and he lets out a small whine as his ears flatten against the back of his head. Mika peers at the two of them anxiously, half-rising in her seat as if meaning to interfere before things get messy. She has no need to worry, though, because Sakura has no desire to pick on little kids any time soon.

"Prodigy, Uchiha, heiress—what does that all matter? They're just words. They aren't who you are," she finally says, raising her shoulders in a small shrug. "I'm Sakura, just Sakura. Your teammate, Sakura. That's really all there is to it, Kaito-san."

Blinking in surprise at her rather affable response, Kaito simply gawks at her for a long moment, opening and closing his mouth in an indecisive manner, perfectly resembling a gobbling goldfish, before he seems to come to a conclusion appropriate enough for his liking, nodding his head jerkily as he sinks back into his seat. In what seems to be a feeble attempt to recollect his composure, he turns to Mika, spluttering and fumbling before managing to get his words out clearly.

"So, something just occurred to me." He runs a hand through his sandy hair almost sheepishly. "Aren't all Yamanaka supposed to be teamed up with the Nara and Akimichi?"

The girl colors faintly at the weight of his attention. "Oh, um, the tradition only applies to the heir or heiress. I'm just another member of my clan, so…yeah," she finishes awkwardly, her cheeks now aflame, and she rapidly turns back to the window so her hair once again shields her face from their eyes.

Apparently satisfied with her answer, Kaito plops onto a desk, his previous moment of embarrassment forgotten for the time being. "I hope we get someone real cool."

Despite herself, even Sakura is pretty eager to greet her new teacher. She shouldn't get her hopes up, though. Because, after all, only so many shinobi can manage to match up to one like Hatake Kakashi. But as the Uchiha heiress and working in a group of clan members, she's sure that whoever is assigned to her team will be interesting. As if summoned by her thoughts, she detects chakra approaching their door. A half-second later, she jolts up from her seat at how familiar the signature of that person is. ' _Could it be…?'_

"What is it?" Kaito says just as his canine companion lifts his snout to the air with an inquiring snuff, but she is spared from answering when the door opens.

The man is just as how she remembers him to be. The same deer hide coat and uniform, the same dark hair gathered into a spiky ponytail, the same lazy grace in his slouch, the same pierced ears, and the same knives in his indecipherable eyes. Yet, he is also different. His face is tanned but unblemished, smooth and unscarred, and there is no goatee protruding from his chin. She remembers that Shikamaru had once told her that it was the Third Shinobi World War that had given his father his scars. His green vest is also a shade lighter than the one he had worn in her time, indicating that he has not made Jōnin Commander yet. His hitai-ate is tied around an arm, just like Shikamaru had used to wear his.

He looks so much like his son it _hurts_.

"I'm Nara Shikaku, your jōnin sensei and team leader," the man drawls, a hand held up in greetings. "I know who you all are, and I'm going to assume that you know each other because if I'm wrong, that would just be sad."

Kaito springs up from his desk. "Hey, I've heard of you! You're the current head of the Nara clan."

"So I am." Shikaku tilts his head in assessment of the boy. "And you're Inuzuka Kaito, Tsume's nephew." He turns to Mika. "Yamanaka Mika. Inoichi's mentioned you a couple of times." His gaze shifts to Sakura, and she remembers how unnerved she used to be by those too sharp, too intelligent eyes. "Lastly, Uchiha Sakura. Fugaku wouldn't shut up about you during meetings."

Kaito's dog makes a huffing sound at the back of his throat, and his partner crosses his arms, shaking his head at Shikaku with what looks like severe disappointment. "You forgot about Ryū. Seriously, how could you ignore him just like that?"

"Ah, my bad." Shikaku winces. "Hello, Ryū."

Ryū stretches his mouth in a yawn, baring his glistening teeth. He's more like Kuromaru than Akamaru, appearing more wolf than dog with his small ears and elongated snout. His pelt is a grey darker than her shirt's, but his white underside is as bright as fresh snow.

"So, this is it. Your genin team." Shikaku sweeps an arm in their general direction. "If you're as talented as they tell me so, I'll sign you up to the Chūnin Exams in a few years."

He's a little different from the man she remembers him to be; not as impenetrable, not as refined, and the loose stance of his hunched shoulders is more prominent than she is used to seeing. The war must have been what had hardened and sharpened him to become the man in her timeline.

Something occurs to her, then, and she speaks up, "Shouldn't you be giving us a test to determine whether we are worthy of being officially promoted into genin or to be sent back to the Academy for further training?"

His expression darkens. "Things change in war. A single shinobi might turn the tide of a battle. Konoha needs every helping hand. Any other questions?"

"Um, I have one." Mika raises a hand shyly.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering…if, you know, because war is going on and…" she ducks her head, teeth pulling at her bottom lip worriedly. "We'll have to fight in the war, too, right, Shikaku-sensei?"

"Ah, I should have known you guys would be worried about something like this. The little test in the Academy must have worked a bit too well." He chuckles for a moment before sobering up at the affronted looks his team sends him. "Look, there is no way that Konoha would send fresh genin to the frontlines. Don't get me wrong; sooner or later, you _will_ have to participate in the war and fight enemy-nin head-on. For example, aiding in border defense or scouting out the perimeter." He smiles wryly at the relieved slump of Mika's shoulders. "Rookies like you have nothing to do beyond Hi no Kuni."

"But I want to do more than that," Kaito says, and the intentions Sakura has to reprimand him for his naivety are vanquished the instant she looks at him. Eyes narrowed slits, elongated canines digging into his lips, red clan tattoos rippling in a savage snarl—the legacy of his clan flows true and rich in his blood. "Iwa-nin took my sister. I want to fight. I want to pay them back for what they took from me." Beside him, Ryū kneads the ground restlessly with his paws as his claws sheathe and unsheathe repeatedly, clicking and grinding against the surface.

"Well, if you want to aid our village further, you'll have to be promoted to chūnin for that." Their teacher squares his shoulders, straightening up to his true height as he bares his teeth back at the boy, appearing surprisingly just as ferocious as any Inuzuka. "And that'll be up to me to decide whether you deserve the title or not."

"Hey, where're you going?" Kaito asks when Shikaku turns his back on them, heading back to where he came from. The man doesn't break stride as he reaches for the doorknob, throwing a casual glance over his shoulder.

"We're finished here," he says. "Gather at the fifth training ground tomorrow morning at eight. Oh, and," Shikaku turns around, throwing his arms wide out to his sides with a jagged pull to the edges of his mouth. "Welcome to Team Nara."

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: Ninth grade is horrible. PSAT, PACT, preparing for TOEFL— _bleh_.

So, how do you like my decision of Sakura's new team? Any thoughts on her new teacher? Personally, I really like Shikaku. Can't believe he died. _Damn it, Kishimoto._

Feedback is appreciated!


	7. vi: enigma

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

2/21/2017

Shanghai

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews! Keep it coming, folks! To my lovely guests: Please do sign in if you have an account when you review! I always reply to my reviews, and it makes me sad when I'm unable to thank you for giving me such heartwarming feedback.

This chapter has been beta'd by _jamielmx_. Ah, to think you even have to put up with me in school. Thank you, Jamie!

See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter vi.-**

 _enigma_

* * *

"You are terrifying

and strange

and beautiful,

something not everyone knows

how to love."

–Warsan Shire

* * *

As a well-rounded, meticulous person devoted to raising his family, governing his clan, and conducting the Konoha Military Police Force all at once, her father is also proving to be an astonishingly skillful cook. Sakura watches him with an amused light in her gaze as he flits around the kitchen, handling pans and ladles with the same easy dexterity as if he were gripping a kunai. She likes the idea of getting used to the sight of this stoic, battle-hardened man pattering around in his wife's frilly, polka-dotted apron.

"Tell me about your day," Fugaku says to her later, when the family of four settles into their seats around the table for lunch. Her baby brother curls up in their mother's lap, suckling on her milk-laden breasts.

"My jōnin sensei is Nara Shikaku," Sakura answers, her chopsticks pausing in midair. "I'm sure you're familiar with the name."

"Ah, Shikaku-kun!" Mikoto beams, "Your father and I were in the same class as him. I trust that he'll make a splendid teacher. What do you think, Fugaku?"

Her husband slices into his plate of omuraisu, eyelashes lowered in contemplativeness. "You'll learn a lot from him, that's for sure. The Sandaime made a good decision."

"Tell me more about him," Sakura requests.

"He's a smart man," Mikoto says, stroking Itachi's head as he nestles closer against her bosom, little hands fisted in her robes. "Sharp as a razor."

"He wants to make Jōnin Commander," Fugaku adds. "I reckon he'll succeed, too. I've known the man long enough to know that he can do anything he puts his mind to. The members of the Nara clan are proclaimed as entirely too slothful and indolent, but don't let them fool you, Sakura. The mind of a Nara is capable of anything. Remember that."

"I know, tou-sama," she replies, because she _knows_. Oh, she knows, because she can still remember Shikamaru's face flecked with grime, eyes gleaming with a kind of cruelty she had never before seen from him, and the way his lips had curled over his teeth as he told her, every word soaked in vindictive satisfaction, " _—and I'll leave him there, the bastard, buried and suffocating and slowly dying with the fact that he's never going to get out of there, ever."_

Even now, the image has never quite faded from her mind.

"Tell me about the rest of your team," Mikoto says, maneuvering her arms carefully as she shifts her baby into another position. Itachi mewls in protest before quieting down again when his mother murmurs soothingly down to him.

"My teammates are Yamanaka Mika and Inuzuka Kaito," Sakura says, before hastily adding, "and Ryū, his ninken."

"A team of clan members," Fugaku scratches at his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting formation."

"Kaito is the nephew of the Inuzuka's leader," Sakura supplies. "Mika seems to be closely affiliated with the head of the Yamanaka clan."

"I'm not surprised," Fugaku nods. "Both of them are tight-knit clans. The Inuzuka, especially. The Uchiha and Hyūga are really the largest and most prominent clans located in Konohagakure."

"You should bring them home for dinner some day," Mikoto says. "Your teammates, I mean."

"Of course, kaa-san." Sakura agrees, "I do believe you'll find them rather likable."

[ _martyr_ ]

"I want the three of you to tell me your abilities. Kaito, you go first. Remember, now is not the time for modesty—but I don't think we'll have that problem with you, right, boy?"

"Wait a moment. I didn't quite get that." Kaito frowns, cocking his head to one side in a doggish manner. Beside him, Ryū mimics the motion, making an inquiring whine at the back of his throat. "Can you go first?"

"Very well," Shikaku sighs. "As a Nara, I have the ability to manipulate shadows through Yin Release. I've been told that I'm a shrewd tactician and strategist, able to rapidly analyze a great deal of information, anticipate actions, and use it to quickly formulate or reformulate highly effective plans. I also have some knowledge in the healing arts." He quirks an eyebrow at the gawking boy. "That good enough for you?"

"You know," Kaito murmurs, stunned. "I didn't think you were very impressive at first, but now I gotta admit that you're actually pretty cool."

The man flashes a grin in response. Leaning his back against the trunk of a tree with his long legs stretched out, Sakura absentmindedly worries that he'll fall asleep in what looks to be a very comfortable position. Even she herself is feeling particularly lackadaisical in the summer heat.

"I've always achieved high marks in taijutsu and ninjutsu back in the Academy, but Ryū and I haven't been taught our clan's combination techniques yet." Kaito rubs a hand along his ninken's furry flank, earning him a low huff of approval. "We've already mastered the basics of tracking, though. Tsume-obaa even said that the two of us has got one of the finest noses she's ever seen!"

Shikaku nods before shifting his gaze to Sakura.

"My Sharingan is fully mature with three tomes in both eyes. While not as capable as the Byakugan, they enable me to see chakra through most obstructions. They give me an incredible clarity of perception upon activation, allowing me to read lips and copy movements—" Sakura pauses, "I think it would be better if I demonstrate the Sharingan's abilities in the future, Shikaku-sensei. It's…quite a lot to take in. However, I would like to say that I have some skills in medical ninjutsu in addition."

"Well, your kekkei genkai does come with multiple equipment," Shikaku nods. "I suppose you don't have to expand on them now, as it would definitely be too troublesome. May I see your Sharingan, though?"

Nodding, Sakura lets red wash over black and green. Instantly, everything is sharpened down to the smallest detail—the lint peppered over Shikaku's vest, the faintest smattering of freckles across Kaito's cheeks, the thin sheen of moisture glistening on Ryū twitching nose, and in Mika's widened eyes, she can see her own, vivid and bright with tomoes of black silhouetted starkly against crimson. The sight is arresting, because she knows that a part of her will never get used to the sight of Sharingan eyes gleaming back at her in every reflective surface.

"As I've come to know," Shikaku says, "To gain the Sharingan, its wielder must experience a powerful emotional condition—more often than not, a traumatic event. But you are an exception, Uchiha Sakura, for you activated your kekkei genkai upon birth." He draws a leg back and props an elbow atop of it, leaning forward with cagey eyes fixed upon her. "I want to know why you're different from your clansmen. Tell me why you're special, Sakura. What is it that makes you so peculiar?"

Sakura looks back at him silently, blinking red away from her eyes. It's a small comfort, though, because the mismatched black and green are no less unsettling.

 _'These are not a child's eyes,'_ Shikaku ponders. Too sharp, too astute, too inscrutable. ' _Who are you, Uchiha Sakura? Who are you? What are you?'_

"We are who we are for a lot of reasons, Shikaku-sensei," Sakura replies, almost as if his thoughts had rung aloud. "Perhaps, one day, we shall know why that is. But for now," she turns to the other girl, "I do believe it's your turn, Mika-san."

For a short moment, the Yamanaka stares uneasily into her eyes as if the image of her Sharingan has not yet faded, before speaking, "The members of my clan specialize in mind-centered techniques, espionage, and interrogation—which is kinda why the majority of T&I are made up of people from my clan. We've developed sensory abilities, transferring consciousness, reading minds, and communicating telepathically."

"How did your clan come up with so many useful techniques?" Kaito complains, throwing his arms up into the air to emphasize his displeasure. "That's so—that's so unfair!"

"Unfair?" Shikaku chuckles. "That's exactly what it is. Life is unfair. The world is unfair. It doesn't matter whether you're up or down. What matters is how you play the game in life. To build a strong team, you must learn to use someone else's strength as a complement to your weakness and not a threat to your power."

"You already come from a very notable clan, Inuzuka Kaito," Sakura says, "There are those in this world who are shadowed by the plainest of ancestries behind them, yet they manage to rise from above the dust and forge legends of themselves. Talent is something everyone possesses, yet some still fail to explore and sharpen it to its full potential. If you think you're not good enough, then work harder. Let what is unfair teach and guide you. It is too easy to use your ancestry as an excuse. Do not take the lazy way, Kaito-san."

Kaito turns his face away, but the ears peeking out from his hair are visibly tipped with red. "I get what you mean," he mumbles. "Geez, you didn't have to rip into me like that."

"If you're wallowing in the delusion that everything should be made fair, then you're a fool." Sakura continues, before she softens her tone. "You've managed to merit praise from Tsume-sama, and that itself is not an easy thing to achieve."

"Sakura-san is right," Mika says gently, "If you keep on working hard, I'm sure you'll become very strong. The comeback will always be stronger than the setback, after all."

At her words, Kaito turns back to face them, skin reddening even further.

"Each one of you has a solid stand in this team. The Sandaime put us together for a special purpose," Shikaku says. "Does anyone have an idea what that might be?"

"At first, a team of hunter-nin seemed likely," Sakura starts.

"Why not, then?" Kaito asks. "We're certainly versatile enough to perform the wetworks—given the right sort of training, of course."

"Um, I…I think I might know," Mika looks up from where her fingers are nervously knotted in the grass, thin blades of green peeking out from between her knuckles. "Kaito-san and Ryū-san can track with their noses. I will soon be trained to further expand my telepathic range. And, perhaps, our most vital tool—Sakura-san's Sharingan, which has the ability to imitate movements."

"Are you saying…" Kaito breathes excitedly. "We're gonna be a jutsu-theft squad?"

Shikaku's affirmative smirk is all the answer they need.

"Between an Inuzuka's nose, the sensory of a Yamanaka, a Nara's brains, and the Sharingan of an Uchiha," Sakura's eyes gleam, "there won't be any prey too big for our jaws."

"You forgot about Ryū," Kaito sighs. "How could you ignore him just like that?"

[ _martyr_ ]

While they do engage in one-on-one sparring sessions, Shikaku is more comfortable with setting up impossible team exercises and combat situations, working them doggedly until they ache down to their very bones. When not gathered for team training, they carry out their share of missions for the village.

On one C-rank, Sakura had been promptly horrified at the sight of the all too familiar brown pelt and red ribbon of Tora the hellspawn. At the peak of his prime in his kittenhood, it seems that the escape artist is even faster than she'd last seen him in her past genin days. Fortunately, in this timeline, he has apparently not yet discovered as many hiding spots as he will eventually find through decades of experience, so it'd taken a significantly less amount of time to get ahold of him.

Mika had sustained pale lines from his whetted claws when she'd tried to soothe the savage beast in her natural benevolence. Even now, Ryū still has tufts of fur missing from his flank.

"If we ever have to deal with that demon cat again," Kaito had sworn vehemently, before they'd limped back to their respective homes to tend to their wounds and dented pride. "We should just take him to my clan compound and neuter the little shit. That ought to put a stop to his tyranny."

Sakura had then reminded him how that would just invoke Madam Shijimi's outrage, and he'd grudgingly dropped the plan.

It becomes an acknowledged fact that Sakura is the best fighter of the trio and inarguably the most likely to be promoted to chūnin. She herself learns a few things, too. She learns that Mika, for all her meek and skittish nature, is far from the type to be pulling her blows any time soon. The girl can really pack quite a punch when she puts her heart into it. Kaito, after a few particularly sticky trials that their team had been forced to undergo, has proven to possess a surprisingly sharp wit and intellectuality. Sakura doubts that Kiba would be able to outmatch his cousin if they'd been the same age.

A few weeks after the team's formulation, Shikaku pulls her aside after a day of training. In the clearing scattered with cracked leaves, the earth fissured with rainless days and alight with the fading glow of the late afternoon, they stand before each other for a long while, legend against child, until he finally heaves a deep sigh.

"Curious," he remarks.

"What is?"

"You have more chakra than the average child," he then shakes his head. "No, not more—way, _way_ more. Your chakra control is ridiculous. You're, what, three-years-old? You shouldn't be able to form chakra threads at your age, yet I've see you perform even more advanced tricks during our training sessions. I do not believe even the blessed genes of the Uchiha bloodline could've given you such raw, natural power."

"What makes you think any of this is natural, I wonder?" The corners of her lips bow up in a secretive smile. "Do you really believe me to be so blessed?"

"Special training?" Shikaku presses. "Complex meditation, perhaps?"

"Why, yes. You're getting closer." Her smile widens. "You'd be surprised by what a little meditation every now and then can do."

That, and she herself had been astonished when she'd realized that somehow, traces of her former chakra were trickling slowly yet steadily into her body. Slowly enough for it to mingle with her current body's components and to be remodified to the same signature as her chakra, yet steadily enough for her to enjoy utilizing an immensely upgraded version of a three-year-old's body. She thinks it has something to do with the same reason she'd managed to retain a single green eye and most of her memory.

"Curious," Shikaku repeats.

"We are who we are for a lot of reasons, Shikaku-sensei," Sakura says, "We may not have the power to choose where we come from, and perhaps we never will, but we do have the choice to decide where we go on from there. What is your dream, if I may ask?"

"What?" Shikaku blinks, a little taken aback at the rather abrupt question.

"Your dream, Shikaku-sensei," Sakura says patiently. "Do you not wish to gain strength with each passing day? Do you not dream of living halcyon days with no troublesome matters whatsoever? Or perhaps, you aspire to be an old man with an old wife, laughing at old jokes from a wild youth?"

Shikaku opens his mouth and then closes it, looking at her strangely. "What is yours, then? Your dream?"

"To do whatever it takes to protect my precious people," Sakura answers without missing a beat. "That is my nindō."

Shikaku is silent for a long moment, and she can almost hear his thoughts, clinking and whistling through that remarkable brain of his. _T_ _hat's something dangerous you've got there, Sakura. A fool's dream, that is. What a naïve, dewy-eyed little girl. How terribly delightful it'd be to break her, to trod that viridity into the very dirt._

And so, his next words surprise her. "I didn't think I would, but I actually quite like you," Shikaku admits. "And you must know that I'm not usually wrong." He tilts his head in consideration, the afternoon light golden on the burnished metal of his hitai-ate. "You're an enigmatic child, Sakura."

[ _martyr_ ]

She knows that she is not who she had used to be.

She is reminded of the painful fact every time she gazes into a reflective surface, every time a strand of dark hair falls into her vision, every time she returns to a house that is not quite her home and to parents whom she does not remember having such dark hair and even darker eyes—

Two sides war within her, wrestling and grappling for dominance.

One side deems her too ungrateful. _You have been given another chance at life_ , the voice hisses, disapproving and disappointed. _The future depends on what you do today._ And Sakura is grateful, so, so very grateful. It has taken losing her life once to rediscover the abysmal depth of appreciation she has for capricious, simple little things.

Yet, the other shamelessly screams and wails for all that she's lost and all that she wants back. _You're not dead, but not alive either,_ the voice cries out, empty and hollow and aching. _Just another ghost with the heart you stole._ She does not move slowly over the past, for it's all compressed in one bright flash—all of the years, pictures with their edges frayed, a box of secrets, and a kind of sorrowful joy. Because as cruel as the world she'd lived in had been, it had also been breathtakingly and heartbreakingly beautiful.

But she knows that she is not who she had been. She is not who she had used to be, and it has made all the difference. She has a past, and she cannot live there anymore.

She needs to let go.

Some sliver of pride reels away from this newfound vulnerability, for it's been so very long since she'd last let cracks spindle over the near-impenetrable walls she'd slavishly erected around herself. And look at where that had gotten her. Look at what her vulnerability had costed her.

She has caged so much anguish and anger inside of her, and she's grasped the agony of it all and held it to her chest even as it festered and rotted and withered away in its wasted little space. Something has ripped and torn within her. It has changed her into something she'd never meant to be. It has transformed her into a person whom she does not recognize. And she's afraid that she does not know how to let go, because she can't remember what it's like to not feel broken.

She's trying, though.

She's trying.

[ _martyr_ ]

Sometimes, Shikaku gives them days for resting after dreadfully hellacious training sessions, and Sakura likes to spend her free time with her baby brother.

Ever since he'd started toddling around on those chubby little legs, Itachi dedicates a large portion of his time waddling after her like an imprinted duckling. Whenever presented with the opportunity, he'd wrap his short arms around her legs until she bends to pick him up, hoisting him onto her shoulders.

One of her favorite moments is toddling with him in the Uchiha front yard.

Unsurprisingly, Itachi is already displaying glimpses of his prodigious talent with his unsteady yet unrelenting steps. Of course, there are a few times when he wobbles and topples over, but instead of steadying him when his knees buckle, she lets him tumble down and spill into a pile of tangled limbs onto her lap.

After he regains his breath, he owlishly peers up at her with strips of grass in his mussed hair, cheeks smudged with sweat and dirt, little hands clenched in the hem of her shirt, and joyous giggles bubble forth from his mouth.

"The hardest step you will ever take," she tells him tenderly, reaching out with a thumb to rub away a stain of spittle from the edge of his mouth, "is to blindly trust in who you are."

"S'kra," Itachi pipes, pressing the pad of a finger against her cheek with another giggle.

"Sa-ku-ra, Sa-kura," she says, biting off each word with clean crispness. "Sakura."

"S'kra," he gurgles in reply. "S'kra, S'kra, S'kra!"

The sight of her baby brother clapping his little hands with the exquisite happiness only babies seem able to exude renders her speechless with an ineffably profound emotion. The next thing she knows, she is doubling up with a deep-bellied kind of laughter, pressing a shaking hand against the ridges of her teeth to smother the sounds with no effect.

She can't help it. She can't seem to stop. It's been so long since the last time she's felt this whimsical jubilation, and even longer since she's decided to act upon it.

When Mikoto hears the voices of her children ascend into a fit of laughter, she curiously pokes her head out through an open window. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees her usually unmoved and stoical daughter hunched over her baby son, eyes brimming with tears of mirth, entire frame wracked with jovial wheezing.

"What mischief are you two up to?" Mikoto walks up towards them, eyes twinkling.

"Watch this," Sakura tells the woman, wiping a hand across her dampened cheeks before turning back to Itachi. "Sakura, Sakura, Sakura."

This time, he is even quicker to respond, "S'kra! S'kra!"

And as their mother throws her head back to laugh in delight, Sakura trails a hand over the softness of her baby brother's face, the frailness of his ears.

 _'Mine_ ,' she thinks with joyful wonder. ' _Mine.'_

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: Ah, I'm going to be writing lotsa family fluff scenes. Feels good, man.

Feedback is appreciated!


	8. vii: so this is war

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

3/4/2017

Shanghai

A/N: The wait was longer than usual because I had to take the first monthlies, so thank you all for your patience! If it helps, this chapter is noticeably longer than the ones before, even if it's only a tad bit.

So, things are starting to go uphill at a much faster pace from here on out.

By the way, _Munchausen34_ and _The Happiest_ collaborated and edited the original fanart of Uchiha Sakura for this fic! Links aren't working on this website anymore, but the URL is still exactly the same and displayed on my profile page. It's wonderful! Go check it out and compliment the artists, please!

Also, shout-out to _Tongue Tied Baby_ for correcting me that the Yamanaka and Nara do not possess kekkei genkai. I've already went back to edit the mistakes!

See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter vii.-**

 _so this is war_

* * *

"There were always those nights

where her mind went to war with her heart.

The fight between what she knew

what she felt

and what she had to do.

Sometimes

the hardest decisions

are made under the moon."

-Rhsin

* * *

"I repeat myself again: observe and do not interfere at any circumstances—unless the situation truly, _truly_ calls for it," the Sandaime Hokage says, taking a pinch of tobacco between his fingertips and sprinkling it into the chamber of his pipe. "The west border is extremely dangerous. This will be your first assigned B-rank. If things take a turn for the worse, you will very likely find yourself dealing with a hazardous A-rank mission. Please do stop looking so excited, Inuzuka-kun. It will not be an enjoyable experience, I assure you."

"War never is," Sakura murmurs. ' _The time has finally come.'_

"I'm not excited," Kaito protests. "I'm just eager."

"So, um," Mika says, fidgeting with an anxious and unsure expression on her face. "We just stand on the sidelines and watch people fight? Just…observe?"

"That's one way to phrase it," Shikaku replies. "In other words, we'll be scouting the perimeter and hovering over the edges of the battlefield, but our fellow shinobi will be the ones doing the actual fighting. This will be your first confrontation with war, so watch closely. This is going to be a lesson you will not— _cannot_ —forget. Trust me, the experience will come in handy in the future."

"How does that make this mission a B-rank if we're not actively participating?" Kaito asks. "We're just going to be watching people fight, that's all."

"What do you mean, _that's all?_ " Sakura says, quirking a judgmental eyebrow. "You are a shinobi, are you not? You should be able to understand why genin teams are sent on missions like ours in times of war. We're certainly not the first and only team to be assigned to this mission, you know."

"Oh, really?" Kaito gripes, but she can tell that he does not contain any real heat. He's been her teammate long enough to become accustomed to her occasional patronizing and know-it-all manner. "Do enlighten me, o' wise Uchiha-hime. Please, go right on."

Sakura fixes him with a level gaze, sparking slightly with impatience. "There is a saying among the warriors of the Uchiha clan: Victorious shinobi win first and then go to war, while defeated shinobi go to war first and then seek to win."

Kaito stares at her incredulously, "That's gibberish—"

"Supreme excellency coheres of breaking the enemy's resistance without outright fighting," Sakura continues. "Deception is the key to warfare. Hence, when we are about to attack, we must appear unstable. When employing our forces, we must seem indolent. When we are close, we must make the enemies believe that we are far away, and when far away, we must make them believe us to be near." Her mismatched eyes are unseeing as they gain a faraway visage. "In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity. One may know how to conquer without being able to do so—so watch closely, Kaito. Watch very closely, for there are things that cannot be accomplished without first being observed."

The ensuing silence stretches for such a long period of time that Sakura starts to feel the telltale warmth of embarrassment prickling along the back of her neck, because ' _dammit, I've gone too far again, haven't I?'_ Gathering the last remaining scraps of her dignity, she's about to tactfully divert the subject when Kaito speaks up.

"Wow, I don't think you've ever spoken so much before. You know, you sounded very hip and cool when you said all that," Kaito drawls, looking far too amused and even more confused. "But really, all I asked for was an explanation to why this mission is a B-rank when it should be a C-rank."

"Well, you posed a question and I offered an answer," Sakura bristles, more flustered than irritated. "And haven't you been listening? Sharpen your mind as you may grind a kunai on a whetstone. Why do you think Shikaku-sensei is such a valuable shinobi? Certainly not because of his delightful and alluring disposition, I'm sure."

"Hey," Shikaku grunts, hand shoved deep into his pockets. "That was uncalled for, Sakura."

"Don't worry, Shikaku-sensei," Mika comforts him, patting his arm. "You are a very sweet man, truly."

"Eat lunch first. You'll probably return tonight or at tomorrow dawn, but you may hand in your reports in a week from now. You have two hours to prepare," the Hokage dismisses them. "Brace yourselves."

[ _martyr_ ]

After the door shuts behind them, Sarutobi Hiruzen takes a long haul from his pipe.

"What a strange child," he contemplates aloud, before turning to the lone ANBU operative stationed in the corner of his office. "How mystifying, don't you think?"

"Yes, Hiruzen-sensei," the ANBU replies, voice slightly muffled by the porcelain mask. "But you know what they always say: There's no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportion."

Hiruzen shoots him a wary look. "I do hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, Jiraiya."

"What do you take me for, you dirty old man?" the ANBU yelps indignantly, "I am _so_ not into toddlers. If you must know, that little oddball of a girl was the one who wouldn't stop sneaking weird little glances at me—"

"Jiraiya!"

[ _martyr_ ]

 _'That ANBU in the corner back there had got to be Jiraiya,'_ Sakura thinks absentmindedly as the team moves swiftly away from the village. She must be correct if the familiar feel of his chakra is anything to go by, and ' _alright, there's really no way of mistaking that magnificent mane of his. Honestly, what use are masks if the operatives don't even try to cover up their hair?'_

"Inoichi-jii-san told me that teams like ours are extremely rare," Mika says, leaping between one branch and the next, bringing Sakura out from her thoughts.

"That's true. The first handfuls of jutsu theft squads emerged in the Warring States Period from the Uchiha clan," Shikaku explains. "One reason it's been kept quiet is mainly because we don't talk about it, as doing so would just reduce its effectiveness. The other is that such teams are only established in times of war. I was actually quite surprised when the Hokage informed me of my genin team's purpose."

"Surprised?" Kaito asks. "Why?"

"Because after the treaty between the Uchiha and the Senju transpired, resulting in the founding of Konohagakure, jutsu theft missions have always been assigned to teams of ANBU that consists of at least one Uchiha." Sakura answers, "My father once commented that a genin team operating so prematurely as a jutsu theft squad is something practically unheard of."

"Well, it's not like we've been doing concrete jutsu-theft-centered missions, anyways," Kaito frowns. "Come to think of it, we've been practicing those horrible exercises all the damn time, yet we haven't done any actual jutsu theft at all!"

Sakura shoots him a deadpan look, "Don't be dense. We're still genin."

"Those horrible exercises you speak of may very well save your life someday," Shikaku adds.

Mika speaks up before Kaito can retort, "I think Sakura-chan means that only when we've been promoted to chūnin can we be granted permission to perform real jutsu theft, Kaito-kun. It's just a little incredible that we've been informed of our team's special purpose at such an early stage. And it's a very, very special purpose, too."

"When you become chūnin, you'll have to directly fight enemy-nin on the center of the warpath." Shikaku says, "Our task will be to bait out techniques while Sakura watches, hidden from sight. Because, honestly, are you really going to be running at a Uchiha with your best techniques in tow when the Sharingan is activated?" At Kaito's pointed look, Shikaku quickly continues, "And I'm not referring to your clan's combat combination techniques with your ninken partners, because even though the Sharingan may learn the workings of such a honed technique, it does not always enable them to use it. The secrets of a clan are kept very well-hidden from any outsiders, after all."

"About that," Kaito says, glancing sideways at Sakura. "I still don't quite get how your flashy eyes work. I mean, yeah, I understand that it copies movements and jutsus and stuff—but the question is, _how?_ "

"What's so amazing about the Sharingan is that it doesn't just let me copy hand signs," Sakura answers. "It also allows me to copy any techniques using hand signs. In some occasions, a few hand signs are left out, but that's easily solved with some simple calculations. Another problem that will probably surface is that I might not have enough chakra or control required for a particular technique."

"Ah, and that's where the rest of team comes in," Kaito says excitedly, nodding with dawning understanding. "Together, we can strip the technique layer by layer, figure out what exactly makes it tick, learn to master it to take back to Konoha, and then we'll be revered as heroes forever! Now we're making sense!"

"That's what made Sarutobi Hiruzen so valuable and formidable in the Second Shinobi World War," Shikaku says. "He could figure out a S-rank ninjutsu technique, and was able to master it and even teach his comrades a superior version in the span of a single day."

"Hence the name The Professor," Mika echoes, blue eyes wide with stars-struck wonder. "Hokage-sama is amazing."

"Ergo, don't be fooled by his kindly, grandfatherly appearance and mannerisms, for he is even more renown as the Shinobi no Kami," Shikaku says. "The hat isn't handed out so freely, after all—" he cuts himself off abruptly, canting his head to one side. After a short moment, he twitches his fingers in a hand signal, motioning for the team to hold their positions.

While Sakura is not a skilled sensor type like Uzumaki Karin, she's long ago learnt how to utilize her abilities well enough to scour her surroundings. Her skin tingles as her senses awash with over four dozen chakra signatures, flickering erratically yet steadily. And if she sends chakra to her ears and strains some more, she can hear the unmistakable clash of weapons, distant yelling, and the impending onslaught of pounding footsteps.

"There is fighting frontwards," Sakura reports. "They appear to be heading for Konoha, but something seems to be preventing them from doing so. It is likely that a group of enemy-nin have somehow managed to sneak past our front defenses, and our comrades are now staving them off."

"You're right," Kaito nods. "There are sounds of battle ahead—and so, so much blood." He wrinkles his nose up in distaste, and beside him, Ryū paws uncomfortably at his snout.

"We're not even close to the border yet," Mika's pale eyebrows draw downwards in a worried frown. "They've made surprisingly deep progress into our territory before getting detected."

Glancing around, Sakura sees that her teammate's statement is indeed correct. A sitting duck between Iwa and Konoha, Kusagakure's terrain is marked by characteristics of each. Having plunged deep into Kusa area in the past, she'd been fascinated by the woods of colossal mushrooms and bamboos. It is a land of rolling hills snaked with slender rivers and steep ravines, covered with trees but not exactly forested. So far, she's only spotted a scant few clumps of bamboos scattered here and there, and the mushrooms she's seen are evidently native only to Konoha. It should have been another two hours before they arrive at the west border where the largest battles take place, yet the fighting is already close.

"We're short of shinobi at the moment," Shikaku shakes his head solemnly. "We can't have every ninja lingering outside of Konoha in case the village suddenly becomes the heartland of attack. Even though enemy-nin cannot possibly know the formula to breaking Konoha's protective dome, the barrier jutsu cannot hold forever."

"Someone should've notified the village by now, though," Kaito says. "But it's likely that this has only just happened. Should we go aid them or send for more backup?"

"Mika, scout ahead," Shikaku orders. "There's a thrush perched five branches above from us. I'll shadow-bind it so it won't take off. See it? Ah, a little more to the right—yes, that's it, there's the little fella."

Kaito moves over to Mika, supporting her body when she goes limp as her consciousness is transferred into the small bird. She launches herself away from the branch, nearly toppling downwards in the middle of her flight before regaining her balance with several forceful flaps of her wings. It must be difficult adjusting to a non-human body, so Sakura thinks she deserves some credit, because even Ino hadn't progressed so far in such a short matter of time.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" Kaito asks, looking up at the dimming sky. The sun is setting below the horizon, painting the heavens with dying streaks of orange and purple.

"Mika is a talented kunoichi who is currently inhabiting the body of a tiny woodland bird," Sakura replies. "I daresay she will return to us in one whole piece."

"Yeah, I know, I know," Kaito sighs. "I guess I just needed a little reassurance from someone else." Something in his voice makes her turn her head around to look at him, and as she watches, he brushes Mika's pale locks away from her face and tucks a stray strand of hair behind an ear. There is an uncharacteristic tenderness in his expression that she is all too familiar with, and it makes her a little uncomfortable to witness the gesture.

Not wanting to intrude on a moment obviously meant for privacy, she turns her attention to Shikaku. The man is currently leaning against a tree, eyes closed as he twirls thick stripes of shadows about his feet. Sensing her observation, he makes a tendril of shadow slither towards her, taking the form of a giant squirrel the size of a small housecat. She lets the shadow-squirrel scamper up onto her shoulder, nearly squeaking in surprise when Shikaku makes it prod its cold nose against her neck.

They do not have to wait very long before a soft squawk and a rustle of leaves signify their teammate's return. Mika stirs in Kaito's arms, shifting her body as she raises her head. The thrush trills in alarm before flapping furiously away in a cloud of feathers. Kaito quickly removes his hand from her hair, gazing down at her innocently.

"That was way faster than I'd expected," Shikaku remarks. "Unfortunately, that must mean that the enemy is closer than we'd originally thought them to be."

"I've always disliked using this technique on animals," Mika mumbles to herself, raising two fingers to gingerly rub over her temples. "That wriggly little worm back there looked alarmingly appetizing."

"The mission," Kaito prompts. "What did you see?"

"Oh, right— _oh_ , it's terrible!" Mika exclaims. "Sakura-chan, you were right. Two dozen or so Iwa-nin have managed to intrude across the boundary between Kusa and Konoha, and our fellow shinobi are trying to chase them off, and even worse news is that—"

"They've brought the fighting straight to us," Sakura finishes grimly even as the ground rumbles ominously beneath the soles of their shoes. "Give us your word, Shikaku-sensei."

Shikaku studies them silently with the cool-headedness he is so often praised for, and when he does speak, his voice is without a single quiver.

"Konoha needs our assistance," their teacher says. "As the jōnin sensei of my genin team, I hereby declare the original mission extricated. Until I say otherwise, we will defend our homeland until every one of those enemy-nin are chased out. I only ask you to choose your battles wisely and to never put down your guard, not even for a split-second—and _please_ , for the love of Kami, _stay alive_."

"Hai, sensei!"

 _'It's time.'_

[ _martyr_ ]

When the first person dashes from the trees with two dozen more shinobi hot on his heels, Iwa insignia glinting proudly on each of their hitai-ate, Sakura streaks forward and unleashes a horde of vehement flames upon the enemies. A few of them topple to the ground, screaming and writhing as the stench of burnt flesh stings the air, while some of those who are able to react fast enough vaults over the deadly blazes—only to be brutally shredded apart by a bellow of " _Gatsūga!_ " and a tornado of teeth and claws.

"This is for my sister, you bastards!" Kaito roars, drenched in the tattered remains of his downed opponents, before he flings himself back into the fray again. Ryū leaps after him with a hair-raising howl, unsheathed claws slashing mercilessly.

When Sakura sees several Iwa-nin turning against their comrades who lets out startled cries, she knows that Mika is busy at work. _'To your right, Sakura-chan!'_ She hears her teammate's voice shout in her mind before she ducks down, an axe sweeping over her head. _'I'll try to keep an eye on all of you!'_

Coldness brushes past her legs as Shikaku's shadows slither and spike in every direction like black lightning, ensnaring and impaling enemies faster than she can even blink. It's wonderful to be able to witness the man's marvelous battle prowess once again.

 _'For Konoha!' a_ voice in her mind shrieks over and over again with increasing volume until the words nearly tear themselves from her lips. ' _For Konoha! For Konoha!'_

Above them, the final rays of the fading sun are fully swallowed, plunging the world into another night of moonlit darkness.

[ _martyr_ ]

As Sakura fells enemy-nin left and right, her heart slams against her ribcage so hard that it aches, her lungs are strung tight with suppressed breaths, and she can feel every vein and every fiber, every bone and every nerve, all awake and buzzing as if her entire body is crackling with hot electricity.

Only a few years ago, she had been all alone, left behind to wander and stifle through the charred ruins of a crumbling world, to ponder her shame and despair in seclusion. She had no purpose to continue dragging on a pointless life, no incentive to persist fighting a battle she would never be able to win.

Not for the first time, she wonders if she'd been the one to end her own sorry life. Had she really been twisted to such a coward? Had there really been no other way out?

Now though, fighting side by side with her team, she finds that she doesn't much care. She's been given another chance, and she'd be damned if she doesn't use it well. It gives her strength to have somebody to fight for, because while she may not always be able to fight for herself, for others—she can kill. The urge to fight and defend has awakened something purely primal and ancient within her. There is something gruesomely satisfying and familiar in the way torn flesh and splintered bones slides wetly over her skin.

It's been such a long time since she'd last fought so freely. Her ears are plugged with the roaring of blood within, her heart beats a steady tattoo in her chest, and raw chakra undulates smoothly through her body as relentlessly as endless waves crashing ashore—

Her teammate's voice is like a startling douse of ice water.

' _Kaito-kun!'_ Mika's shriek explodes in all their minds, and white spots dance behind her eyelids from its sheer volume. _'Behind you!'_

Half-turning from the collapsed form of the opponent he'd just defeated, Kaito can only watch with wide eyes as the chokutō soars towards him at a speed too fast for him to dodge or deflect—only for the weapon to be intervened by a blur of grey and white. Ryū yelps as he crashes to the ground, legs spasming in agony, and a pool of crimson rapidly fans out from below his body. Moonlight catches onto the steel blade protruding from his flank.

"Ryū!" Kaito cries. Caught in horror at the sight of his fallen ninken, he does not notice another figure lunging towards him.

Sakura clears the clearing in less than a heartbeat. She rams her body into his side and sends him crashing away, flipping a kunai up just in time to parry the enemy's sword. Over the clash of steel, she locks eyes with a man—boy— who looks only a few years her senior. With a flex of her muscles and a rush of chakra to her arms, he goes skidding several feet away with a surprised grunt. He had clearly not expected so much strength from a baby-faced assassin.

"Why, you're just a child!" the boy exclaims, lowering his sword until the tip drags along the ground. There is a hesitance and unsureness etched across his face that breaks her heart to see, because unlike him, she has no such conservations.

Her resolve has long ago been hardened, her heart bitterly steeled.

"And so are you," she says sadly, looking him in the eye because he deserves that much, at the very least, before appearing behind him. His skull seems softer than mushed rice as she drives the kunai into the back of his head. He crumples to the ground, twitching for another few seconds before going limp under her iron grip, and only then does she let go. His pooling blood is sickeningly bright against the moonlit earth, but it's nothing she hasn't seen before.

"Sakura!"

She reels around at Kaito's panicked shout. She finds him crouched beside a patch of dense foliage, Ryū unmoving body cradled in his arms. Narrowing her gaze, she's relieved to see the barely visible rise and fall of the dog's bloodstained flank.

"Do something," he begs as she kneels down next to him. "Help him, please."

Wordlessly, she gently takes Ryū body from his hold and lays him onto the ground. Glowing hands rapidly rove over his injuries, and she frowns at what she discovers.

"Guard us," she instructs Kaito.

"Will he be okay?" her teammate inquires. Face twisted with worry and fear for his dog, he's never appeared so close to tears.

"That depends on how well you fend off the enemy-nin," she replies, already turning back to her patient. It doesn't take her too long to find a sturdy stick in the undergrowth. "Bite down when the pain comes," she says to Ryū, and the dog only whimpers back in reply.

Wrapping one hand around the hilt of the short chokutō protruding from his side, she raises the other above the damage, letting wispy trails of green trickle into the seeping wound. When she starts pulling at the blade, both Ryū's forelegs and hind legs spasm violently again, tail thrashing and thumping wildly against the ground. The piece of wood cracks and splintered as he crunches down on it, and a shrill whine escapes through his clenched teeth.

"Easy, Ryū, easy," Sakura soothes. "It'll be over soon. You're going to be alright."

The blade drops to the ground silently, slicked with blood, and she finishes up on his skin and flesh after knitting back together his impaired internal damage.

"How is he?" Kaito drops down beside her. At the look she shoots him, he hastily continues, "The area's clear. We've taken care of the enemies. Shikaku-sensei ordered us to retreat."

"Speaking of sensei, where is he now?" Sakura asks.

"The last time I saw him was only a few minutes ago," Kaito threads his fingers gently through Ryū matted fur, avoiding the freshly healed wound. "He said to get back together with our team and wait for him. I think he went to talk with some of our shinobi, because we were just finishing up on sweeping through the area together. Where is Mika? I haven't seen her in a while."

In reply, Sakura looks up at the dark sky a few moments before a figure plunges from the trees, and then Mika lands down beside them, looking bruised and painfully cut-up.

"Mika!" Kaito exclaims with heavy relief. "I was wondering where you were."

Sakura stretches out a hand to cup over Mika's swollen-shut eye, glowing a faint green for a mere few seconds before pulling away, leaving the eye as good as new.

"Thank you, Sakura-chan." Mika gives her a smile that appears rather wobbly and almost pained. Not even a second later, her expression completely crumples and she emits a strange gurgling sound from her throat. "I—I-I'm so sorry for…for acting like this," she chokes out. "It's just that…I was…so— _so_ _scared_." Ashamed of her outburst, she buries her face in her hands, wet sniffles escaping through the gaps between her fingers every so often.

Just as Sakura opens her mouth to comfort the girl, Kaito beats her to it.

"I was scared, too," Kaito says fiercely, "Fuck, I was scared _shitless_. I thought I was going to die. I thought we were all going to die. And I was scared for you guys, too. Kami, I—" he cuts himself off, taking in a whistling breath down his throat. "So," his voice is barely a whisper, "this is war, huh?"

His eyes are frighteningly empty, his face haggard, clothes mottled with blood. Mika is huddled beside him, knees locked together and drawn up to her chest, and even in the dark, Sakura can see how badly the arms wrapped around her legs are shaking. As she watches, Kaito lifts a bruised arm to circle around Mika's waist, and the girl leans closer into his embrace.

Sakura's heart breaks for them. She mourns for the loss of their innocence, for the darkness that has now undoubtedly crawled within, and will slowly fester and grow with every passing day until it is inevitably deformed into something black and vile.

"You weren't scared," Kaito suddenly says. It is not a question, but a self-affirmed statement, and it takes her a moment to realize that she's the one he's talking to when he holds her gaze.

"No," Sakura replies honestly. "No, I wasn't."

"H-How did you do it?" Mika whispers, "Can you teach me how to be brave, too?"

Sakura almost laughs outright even as she feels her heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. It's funny how she's proven wrong every time she thinks her wound cannot be opened wider anymore. Hadn't she already become numb to everything decades ago? After all, you can't break a heart that's already broken and worn-out. Isn't that how things are supposed to work? Oh, how she misses the little girl whose dreams had no barriers, and who believed in a world where anything was possible with a heart that was full and unbroken.

"War is a soul-shattering experience for anyone and everyone, no matter how hardened they become," she instead murmurs aloud. "That was not bravery you saw from me. I was merely carrying out my duty—eliminating the enemy. It never occurred to me that there was a greater need to protect myself."

"But—"

"Yes, the two of you were scared," Sakura continues. "Utterly terrified, even. Scared _shitless_. Yet, despite it all, despite your fear, you still did it anyway, didn't you? You kept on fighting even though you were aware of the fact that you could drop dead any second, sure that the next person you knocked down would be your last. Yes, the two of you were scared. You'd be an idiot if you weren't. And you wouldn't be brave either."

"Wait…" The space between Kaito's eyebrows creases. "Doesn't that make you an idiot because you weren't scared?"

A breath of laughter whooshes from her mouth. "Perhaps."

"Isn't there anything that makes you scared?" Mika asks, rubbing away the last of her tears.

At that, Sakura smiles. "Of course. I'd be an idiot if there wasn't."

Shikaku arrives soon after that, shrewd eyes roving almost frantically over their bodies for drastic injuries. Only when they repeatedly reassure him of their verdure and wholesomeness does he set them on the direct path back to the village. They don't speak during the journey, each of them opting to sort out the chaos in their heads in stilted silence. It is unspoken but painfully tacit that their mission had veered onto a very different path than it was supposed to have taken. Sakura tries not to imagine what the Sandaime's reaction will be when he reads their reports.

[ _martyr_ ]

It is approaching dawn by the time they enter the village, the sky shell pink and faintly gold, and the moon only a slip of silver in the distance. Shikaku hurries them over to the hospital for a final checkup before sending them back to their respective homes.

Carrying an exhausted Ryū in his arms, Kaito offers Mika to walk her to the Yamanaka clan compound, to which she accepts graciously with a shy smile. That is enough cue for Sakura to let them alone, and after bidding each other goodbye, she heads back to her own house.

She is surprised to find the lights dimly lit when she steps over the doorstep. The sound of running water and clattering of plates travel out to the hallway. Who could be up this early already?

"Come into the dining room, Sakura-chan!" her mother calls.

Curiously, she pads across the hall and into the room. Her mouth salivates when the heady aroma of warm food washes over her, and her full attention instantly hones in on the plate of tempura like an eagle to a white-tailed bunny-rabbit. Her mother props her hip against the table, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Okaeri, Sakura-chan." She smiles warmly, but it fades slightly when her eyes linger on her daughter's blood-soaked and battered appearance.

"Tadaima, kaa-san," Sakura greets her, making a move to drag the plate over.

"Ah-ah," Mikoto pulls the plate lightning fast out of her reach, waggling a finger in her face. "You know the drill. I've already laid your pajamas out on the counter. I don't want you getting any of that filth on my furniture. All that blood and grime comes off; you hear me?"

Sakura makes another grab at her salvation, but her mother simply raises it higher above her head, raising an eyebrow meaningfully. Sakura gazes at her food for a long, mournful moment before finally heaving a sigh. "Yes, kaa-san."

She emerges from the bathroom in record time, hair barely dried and still slicked against her scalp, water dribbling thin paths down her neck. Ignoring Mikoto's stare of exasperation, she plops onto her chair and starts shoveling food into her mouth without a single pause.

"Don't inhale your food like that," Fugaku says as he enters the room, expression mildly disgusted. "You'll just bring it all back up if you continue at that rate."

"Look at her," Mikoto murmurs to him when he walks over to the counter, filling himself a cup of tea. "She's ravenous, our poor girl. Wasn't it supposed to be only some sort of espionage mission? She was covered in blood when she came in, you know."

Sakura barely hears them. She can't get the image of Kaito's haunted eyes and Mika's tear-streaked face out of her mind, or how Shikaku had appeared ten years older when he'd returned to them, and the slick softness of the boy's brains when she'd driven a kunai into his head, and maybe, someday, she'll finally learn to love herself and stop being sorry for the things that make her who she is—but not today. Not today.

Now that the adrenaline and excitement of the battle have all but faded away, she realizes just how tired she is really feeling. There is a lethargy that tugs at her bones and weighs down her limbs. No matter how much experience she has gained, her physical body is still not quite used to getting so much action all in one day.

She does not have a clue to when she'd fallen asleep during her meal. One moment, she is hurling food down her throat at the dining table. The next, she blinks awake to being carried upstairs to her room in her father's arms, the rhythmic swaying of his steps working like a sedative to pull her deeper into an abyss of darkness.

"Tou-san…" Sakura mumbles as he stoops down to lay her onto her bed.

"Hn?" He brushes damp hair away from her face, frowning when water drips from the black strands and dampens her pillow.

"I'm so...so tired," the words manage to push through her barely parted lips.

"I know, Sakura. You can tell us all about the mission after you've gotten some rest," Fugaku says as he tucks the blanket under her chin. "You'll need it, because Itachi wouldn't stop asking for his big sister all day long. You have no idea how much of a hassle it was making him go to bed. He's usually very well-behaved, you know. You can bet he'll be hogging all your time tomorrow for sure. So, for now, sleep."

If she were any less fatigued, she would have informed him that no amount of sleep will do any good if it's the soul that is tired. She's an ancient soul caged in a young body, and she's so, so tired.

Instead, seeing as she is, she obeys him dutifully, already swiftly slipping into a dream she will not likely be able to remember in the next morning. She has accepted the fact that, sometimes, all she can do is lie in bed and hope to fall asleep before she falls apart.

The last thing she registers is the calloused yet gentle fingers of her father combing through her hair, lulling her into a fitful sleep.

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: Oh, I do love me some team bonding. What are your thoughts on Kaito and Mika? And as far as I know, Kishimoto has never confirmed that Jiraiya had ever served in ANBU, but nevertheless, I like to imagine that he had been in ANBU at some point in his life, and plainly because ANBU Jiraiya is something real awesome—I mean, seriously, imagine all that magnificent snowy mane behind the mask. Can't believe he died. _Damn it, Kishimoto._

Feedback is appreciated!


	9. viii: revelation

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

3/23/2017

Shanghai

A/N: Writing this on the twenty-eighth of March—HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAKURA! You are forever stronger than your haters, my Queen.

Oh, and did you guys check out the new _Boruto: Naruto Next Generations_ episodes yet? Ah, the animation is still just as beautiful as always—if not even more so! Boruto seems like a very interesting character and I quite like him already. Anyways, I've been hearing some pretty shocking rumors, such as the presumed deaths of Naruto or Hinata or Sasuke or even all three of them! True or untrue, it got me real worried for a while. Now, now—as terrible of a person it might make me out to be, I can only hope to see more of Sakura and Sarada and some SasuSaku scenes just to make me squeal. It truly saddens me that Sakura won't be getting as much screen time anymore…

Back to the story—shameless fluff down below!

See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter viii.-**

 _revelation_

* * *

"Children are not a distraction from more important work. They are the most important work." –C.S. Lewis

* * *

"Let me rephrase all of that: A B-rank war-observance mission assigned by the Hokage ended up as an A-rank in which you and your team joined Konoha's border patrols to drive out Iwa-nin intruders." Her father scratches idly at his chin, an action she's come to perceive as his contemplative, and sometimes, agitated, pose. It appears to be more of the latter in this case.

"That's about what I said, tou-san." Sakura nods, raising the brink of her bowl of miso soup to her lips.

"What a mess," Fugaku sighs, shaking his head. "Your first relatively high-ranking mission and you manage to get yourself tangled in war. A mission gone awry. It's a miracle your whole team managed to survive, even with Shikaku in lead."

"Don't you think it's bizarre the way strange things orchestrate themselves around you, Sakura-chan?" Mikoto asks, her tone suspiciously light and her eyes carefully avoiding her daughter's.

"How so?" Sakura blinks, tilting her head to one side, the perfect picture of innocence. Her mother doesn't get a chance to reply before a shrill voice wails from a distant room.

"He wouldn't stop crying when you didn't return home last night," Mikoto says, laying her chopsticks down on her plate. "He put up quite a fuss when I tried to tuck him into bed, and after I fed him breakfast this morning, he just dozed off immediately, so I placed him back into the crib."

"Stay here, kaa-san." Sakura pats her mother's arm, "I'll go to him."

"You do that," her mother smiles, sinking back into her zabuton. "He'll sure be happy to see his big sister."

Sakura walks down the hallway with an uncharacteristic spring in her steps. She'd been too tired to muster up any leftover energy after her last meal to do anything else other than sleep, so she's eager to see him again now that she's gotten her share of rest.

Placed beside their parents' bed and dappled with shafts of sunlight cutting in through the windows, his crib almost seems to be rocking slightly from left to right with the force of his cries. She walks up to the crib and places a hand on its wooden railings to steady the motion.

"You've got a set of lungs on you," Sakura remarks as she peers down at him. "I never would've thought so."

The wailing stutters to an abrupt halt. Mouth halfway open, her baby brother's eyes widen to the size of saucers, staring owlishly up at her for a long moment as if he can't believe she's actually here, before a toothless grin stretches across his cherubic cheeks.

"Nee!" Itachi exclaims gleefully, tangling the blanket around his chubby little legs as he squirms to his feet. "Nee! Sakura! _Nee!_ "

"Did you miss me?" Sakura asks playfully as he clambers onto her arms, tiny hands grabbing fistfuls of her shirt and letting out a little sigh of contentment, stuffing his face into the crook of her neck. She pulls back a few inches to wipe away the tears and snot staining his face, unable to suppress a smile when he leans into her palm.

"Yeah, I know." She pecks him lightly on the nose, smile widening when he giggles. "I missed you, too, otouto. Let's go eat lunch, shall we?"

When Sakura enters the dining room with a still giggling Itachi in her arms, Fugaku rises from the table to help place his son into the high toddler chair.

"Here," Mikoto presses a small bowl of mushed sweet rice into her hands. "You can feed him. You've seen me do it enough times to know how to do so. Oh, look at how happy he is! Look at him, Fugaku!"

"Hn," Fugaku's single grunt somehow manages to express his amusement. A commendable feat, Sakura thinks. "He'll need to start getting used to her absence soon. Some missions in the future may take her away for several months."

"Genin missions won't take months," Mikoto says. "Weeks, probably, but not months. And when the time does come for her to be sent away for months, Itachi will be old enough to refrain himself from making too big a fuss."

"After we finish lunch, I'll bring you along to meet my genin team," Sakura tells Itachi as she dips a spoonful of soft food into his open mouth. "Now, won't that be exciting?"

"Your team is already resuming training right after the unexpected A-rank mission?" Mikoto inquires, surprised. "I thought Shikaku-kun would've given you guys more time to rest after that particular ordeal."

"Time is something we cannot afford. The war is not subsiding anytime soon." Fugaku turns to look at his daughter. "You are a prodigy, Sakura, but do not be so naïve to think that your talent will outlast the time and effort you put into your training. Hard work will take you up the stairs, whereas talent will only bring you to the doorstep. Remember, talent is a gift which everyone possesses—"

"—Yet some fail to explore and sharpen it to its prime," Sakura finishes, barely refraining from rolling her eyes heavenwards. "I know, tou-san. It's one of the first lessons you ever taught me. Besides," she turns to her mother. "My team won't be actually training today. Shikaku-sensei just wants us to gather so that he go through the proper conditions for appropriate mission reports."

"Alright, then." Mikoto piles empty plates atop each other, making her way around the table and to the kitchen. "Don't forget to burp Itachi-chan after he finishes his lunch," she calls over her shoulder. "And it's bright and scorching outside, so make sure the two of you don't get sunburnt."

"Hai, kaa-san," Sakura replies, slipping another spoonful of food between her baby brother's lips.

[ _martyr_ ]

"Yes, Kaito, I am absolutely sure that three sentences do not exactly meet the requirements. Mika, while your effort is appreciated, I doubt that the administrators would find the experience of reading through a five-page essay enjoyable."

Mika raises her head to gaze forlornly at her paper, the hand holding her pen faltering uncertainly over the words she'd just written, while Kaito crumples his paper in a fist and throws it away with a frustrated growl. Yipping, Ryū chases after the ball of paper and clamps his teeth over it, before trotting back to his partner and proudly depositing it at his feet. The boy sighs drearily at his ninken's gift, and then with a casual swipe of his hand, sends it rolling away to join a nearby pile of rumpled papers. "Tell me, Ryū. How many drafts have I written already?"

The dog raises a hind leg to scratch thoughtfully at his ears, and then lets out an affirmative bark.

"Five. Yes, thank you. _Five_. Five drafts. Five scrolls wasted." Kaito turns to Shikaku, "What do you want from me, man?"

The man in question does not grant him a response, opting to remain silent as he slumps snuggly against his tree, long legs stretched out luxuriously, head drooped so low his chin touches his vest. His students think he might be asleep, but they're not quite sure. They can never tell with Nara Shikaku.

"Oi!" Kaito growls, "You were awake and talking just a few moments ago—are you even paying attention to me?"

A hand rises to rub at the back of his neck, moving so sluggishly as if the mere motion causes him a whole lot of effort, and then Shikaku cracks open an eyelid to fix the boy with an apathetic gaze. "Hm?"

"That's it," Kaito throws his arms up in the air, nearly hitting Mika in the face. "I'm done. No more."

"You guys look absolutely…miserable," a voice comments from behind the two. They glance over their shoulders to see the fourth member of their team standing a few feet away, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and cradling a mysterious bundle in her arms.

"Sakura-chan!" Mika greets her happily.

"You're late," Kaito accuses, but she can tell that he's relieved to be taking a brief break from his writing. "And what's that you're holding? Food?"

"Ecstatic to see you, too," Sakura replies smoothly as she takes several steps closer to them, deliberately not answering his inquiry. "What's gotten you all riled up?"

"It's either too detailed or not detailed enough," Kaito grouches, expression sour. "I've always gotten high marks in the Academy in mock mission reports, but apparently they aren't up to dear sensei's standards."

"You're a genin now," Shikaku drawls, his eyelids sliding shut again. "But if you'd like to go back to being an abecedarian, that could certainly be arranged. Troublesome, but as long as it takes you off my hands, I can bear with it."

"Maybe you can try comparing your previous drafts to your newest one and, um, decide which sentences need to be expanded on or taken out…?" Sensing an impending argument, Mika quickly speaks up before Kaito can retort, easily more helpful than their napping teacher.

"That might just work," Kaito muses aloud. Invigorated by Mika's words of encouragement, Ryū nudges wads of crinkled paper towards Kaito with his snout, and the boy swipes a new scroll from the stacked pile before pressing his pen to the paper again.

"Well," Sakura says as he scribbles away. "I may have brought something that might help a little—or, more specifically, _someone_."

Lowering herself onto the floor and shifting her arms for them to get a clear view, she reveals a mop of dark hair and sheets of fair skin. Itachi lets out a delightful chirp as he pokes his head out of his coverings, taking a whiff of fresh, open air, before shyly tucking his face back towards his big sister's chest when he catches sight of her teammates who must be intimidating strangers to him.

"It's a…" Kaito's nose scrunches up in confusion and mild disappointment, "…baby. Man, I thought it was food—"

"Oh," Mika breathes, blue eyes wide with wonder. "Oh, my Kami. _Oh_ , he's… _adorable_."

Sakura unties the cloths strapped over her shoulders and her brother, and then settles down on both knees to place Itachi on the grass-covered ground. The toddler stares curiously around at the unfamiliar location. Their mother has shown him around the village already, but they'd never stopped at a specific place for a long period of time other than the playground or at Kushina's home.

"I know you've told us this before," Mika's words are directed at Sakura, but her eyes are fixated on Itachi who'd clambered to his hands and knees, making tiny sounds of relish when the dirt squishes satisfying between his tiny fingers. "But it seems I've forgotten. What's his name, again? Itami? Itaku?"

"Itachi," Sakura answers, lips quirking when her brother perks up, hearing his name, and waddles towards her like an eager duckling. "Uchiha Itachi."

"I wish I had a sibling, too," Mika sighs wistfully, watching Itachi fling himself into his sister's lap, wrapping his short arms around her neck in a warm embrace. "May I…may I hold him? Please?" Sakura's hesitance must have shown on her face, for Mika hastily continues, "I'll be gentle, I promise."

"No, it's not that," Sakura is quick to reassure her. "He's just a little shy, as you can see. Strangers scare him." She looks down at Itachi, murmuring, "Mika is my teammate. There's no need for you to be frightened of her, otouto. Go on, don't be afraid."

Comforted by her soothing words, Itachi withdraws slowly from Sakura and steals a timid glance at Mika. The Yamanaka is holding herself as still as possible, trying her best not to do anything to scare him off as he gathers the courage to walk towards her.

"Hi," the toddler squeaks. "I'm Itachi. Uchiha Itachi!"

While Mika does not drop her calm composure, her teammates know for a fact that, internally, she has already melted into a sticky pile of goo for the moment. "Oh, wow," she gasps. "He can already talk?"

"Only a few phrases," Sakura replies.

"How old is he?" Shikaku asks, straightening from his position against the tree and scooting closer to his genin team.

"Not even one-years-old, but close," Sakura replies, unable to suppress a rush of pride. "Impressive, isn't he?"

Nodding fervently in agreement, Mika goes back to cooing gibberish at the baby boy. Sakura grins when Itachi starts making quirky hand gestures, apparently using movements to express the words he cannot speak—and thus, of course, rendering Mika into another internal fit over his sheer cuteness. It is then Sakura notices the strange look Kaito is directing at her.

"Something you want to say?" she asks him.

He shakes his head, averting his eyes from hers. "Nothing."

Predictably, unable to handle so much excitement, Itachi takes one stumbling step backwards and falls on his rear. Ryū swiftly plods towards the fallen toddler in alarm, nudging his snout against the toddler's side worriedly. With his help, Itachi wobbly clambers back onto his feet, little hands gripping the dog's thick scruff for balance. The baby gasps in surprise when Ryū swipes his tongue across his face in an affectionate lick, before burying his face into the ninken's furry flank with a squeal of delight.

"Fine," Kaito admits. "He's pretty cute. Ah, why can't you be as cute as your baby brother, Sakura?"

"Most likely the same reason you can't be as cute as your ninken," Sakura retorts without missing a beat.

With a shrill and faux gasp, Kaito rolls across the ground until he reaches Itachi and Ryū. Resting on his side, he clutches a hand against his chest in mock pain. "Oh," he groans. "Your sister wounds me so, Uchiha-hiko. I'm hurt. I really, really am."

Sakura watches in fond exasperation as her teammates bursts into raucous laughter, letting out a soft chuckle herself when Itachi joins in with his squeaky chortles.

[ _martyr_ ]

Needless to say, the actual objective for the gathering of their team is mindlessly trampled and laid flat beneath their feet for the rest of the training session. Well, Sakura knows that while Kaito and Mika have completely forgotten about it, Shikaku definitely remembers—although he's probably too lazy to bring the topic back up again. Drained by the excitement of their rollicking, Itachi soon wanders back into her arms and dozes off.

When the street lamps light up one by one, signaling evening's arrival, he dismisses them, melting into a puddle of shadows and leaving his students to walk back to their respective houses. They bid their farewells to Mika when they reach her clan compound first, who can't help but sneak one last adoring glance at Itachi, before continuing down the road.

When it is Kaito's turn to go through a separate route, he speaks up when they can part ways, "Hey, Sakura."

At his words, Sakura halts, turning back to face him.

"I—well," he pauses. "I…"

"Yes, Kaito?" Sakura says patiently. She knows what he is trying to convey, and she's truly quite touched that the boy is making such an effort.

"I just wanted to thank you," he blurts out, and then surprising her even further, bows deeply. "Thank you for saving Ryū. I don't think he would have made it out alive if you hadn't been there to heal him. And for pushing me out of the way. I would be dead if not for that, too."

"There's no need to thank me," she replies. "That's what teammates are for."

"You're right." He straightens, face flushed and eyes trained on somewhere to the left side of her head. "Yeah, you're right."

"Well, then." She nods, already backing away. "See you tomorrow—"

"—You know, you're not half as bad as I'd thought you'd be," he blurts out. "Not bad at all, really."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows inch towards her hairline; they'd never addressed such personal matters between the two of them before.

"I may have crafted an image of the Uchiha clan in my head," he admits. "An incorrect one, I've realized recently."

"Well, I'm glad you've had your little revelation," she smirks, tone teasing.

 _"The Uchiha will come and take you away if you misbehave_ ," his clansmen had used to warn him and his sister, back in the times when she hadn't been buried three feet underground and he'd still been too naïve to believe otherwise. The following nights, they would always be too frightened to glance out at the windows for fear of catching sight of glowing hues of vibrant red.

He'd grown up being fed chilling tales about the iron, predatory faces of the Sharingan wielders, arrogant and unyielding eyes of warriors who had the authority by unquestioned inheritance.

But Uchiha Sakura is different, and he now knows this for sure.

Back in the Academy, he cannot remember one instance in which she had purposely flaunted her prodigious talent. Granted, there had been a few instances in which he'd been quite annoyed by her almost-frantic hand-raising during class whenever the teacher asked questions. Thinking of it now, that had been the only occasion he'd seen her exhibit any emotion other than cool apathy. " _Teacher's pet_ ," he remembers muttering under his breath. Then again, he'd mostly been relieved that with Sakura answering every question flawlessly, the teacher would unlikely call on him.

After nearly a year of being on the same team, Kaito has learned under that cold, indifferent exterior, there is an actual human soul that genuinely cares for her loved ones. It'd been startling to witness the interactions between her and her baby brother, astonishing how she'd exuded a warmth that had never appeared around them, and the revelation had been absolutely staggering that this usually aloof, untouchable little girl could exhibit such measure of love.

Ever since the moment Sakura had barreled into him and knocked him out of harm's way, and then hunched over the frail, bleeding body of his dog, saving Ryū who he'd believed would surely die from being impaled by the blade of sharp steel—Kaito will never again doubt Sakura's comradeship.

"See ya, Sakura," he grins.

"Goodnight, Kaito. Don't forget to write your report."

[ _martyr_ ]

After the mission, Shikaku trains them even more demandingly than ever.

He teaches them how to create snares so complex that they can even entrap high-level jōnin. He gives them lessons on etiquette, but is quick to abandon the subject when all three of them reassures him of their familiarity with the topic. Because even Kaito, a member of the rowdiest clan in the village, has been brought up to know how to properly behave in a mission should the situation ever call for it. At one point, Shikaku had even ordered Sakura to produce an area of leaping flames, to which she'd obediently complied, before Shikaku had proceeded to demonstrate how to walk through the searing heat, untouched and armed with chakra only. Mika and Kaito had watched in reverent awe, before blanching drastically when Shikaku had demanded his students to do the same.

Kaito had kicked Sakura subtly in the shin, for she'd given her best shot at creating the fiercest fire she was capable of bringing out. She'd begrudgingly let him get away with it, only because the looks of suffering on her teammate's faces were so great it had managed to invoke the slightest stirrings of guilt along with amusement from her.

"Remind me to bring you guys over to the Nara clan compound someday soon," Shikaku says once, watching them spar over the rippling surface of a lake. "Yoshino's also been pestering me about meeting you three."

"Why someone would choose to marry you of all people, I have no idea—"

"Now, now, Kaito," their teacher drawls. "Don't be sulky just because you've lost to Sakura for the fourth time in a row now."

"Ugh! Don't remind me!"

[ _martyr_ ]

Mika's eyes gleam triumphantly as her wires snap tautly around Sakura's struggling form, only to widen when a poof of smoke fades away to reveal a moss-covered log. ' _Of course_ ,' she thinks dejectedly, before something cold and sharp presses up against the column of her throat. ' _Sakura-chan would never fall for such easy tricks.'_

"What's taking him so long?" Kaito wonders aloud, wiping the sweat dampening his forehead with the back of his hand, as Sakura lowers her kunai and steps away from her opponent, signaling the end of their final sparring match.

They've already finished their sparring sessions for the morning, yet their teacher has still not arrived to the training grounds after a whole hour.

Shikaku is a Nara first and foremost. But he is also the head of his clan, the man chosen to be the next Jōnin Commander, a hailed genius tactician, and teacher to three students—and so it does not come as a surprise that he actually takes shinobi training very seriously. It's not like him to be be so late.

"He's probably running an errand," Sakura decides. "I can show you several chakra control exercises until he arrives."

"A simpler one, please," Kaito says wryly. "I think we've had enough of fire-walking and underwater-breathing for the past several months to last us an entire lifetime."

In the end, they settle on rotating a handful of gravel around their arms with chakra threads attached. Another hour stumbles by before their teacher finally turns up to the scene.

"You're late!" Kaito points an accusing finger at his approaching figure.

"My apologies," the man's eyes crease in a smile. "I had to veer off from my regular path to pick up an important document at the Hokage's Tower. I see you guys have been training decently on your own. I appreciate the dedication, my dear students."

There is something off about that smile, his sly tone, and the way his hands are hidden behind his back that makes Sakura suspicious. A lifetime of deceit has guaranteed paranoia to simmer in wake with every living second.

"Spit it out, Shikaku-sensei," she urges him. "Stop beating around the bush."

"Ah, so impatient," he chuckles, bringing his arms out to the front for them to see the object he's holding in his hands. "Very well, then. See for yourselves."

Kaito snatches the paper away, eyes scanning the printed words rapidly, his teammates reading over his shoulders. There is a collective pause before the boy shatters it with a piercing howl, "The Chūnin Exams! You're nominating us for the Chūnin Exams?" He latches onto Shikaku's arm, nearly bowling the man over with his enthusiasm. "You're the best, Shikaku-sensei! The best!"

"So…soon?" Mika says uncertainly. "Hasn't it only been one year?"

"Aren't you excited?" Kaito turns towards her, placing a hand on either side of her shoulders. "Don't you want to be promoted to chūnin?"

"Of course I want to become a chūnin!" Mika cries, cheeks flushing at her uncharacteristically loud outburst, and more likely because of her close proximity with the boy. "But…but don't you think it's a little too soon? Like I said, it's only been one year. We've only ever been on two B-rank missions."

"Too soon? Little Uchiha-hime here graduated the Academy in less than a year!" Kaito guffaws, and Sakura lets the boy cuff her affectionately over the head, and then she scowls half-heartedly and swats his hand away before he can muss her hair too badly.

"She's a prodigy," Mika protests halfheartedly, but it's obvious that her resolve is weakening. Try as she might to deny and repress, there is an unmistakable glint of alacrity in her blue eyes that just cannot be dimmed.

"Listen, Mika." Shikaku reaches out and rests a hand atop her head, "I never would've signed the three of you up to the exams if I'd deemed any of you the slightest bit unready. But you are, Mika. You _are_ ready. All three of you are ready."

"Well, we've only got a little more than two weeks to prepare," Kaito says. "Train us as mercilessly as you can, Shikaku-sensei. I know you want to. Don't hold back anymore. Don't listen to me when I beg for a break or anything of the sort!"

"It's nothing too exciting," Shikaku says. "It won't be like what I'm sure you're imagining, Kaito. You might even be a little disappointed, I'm afraid."

His words do nothing to qualm the Inuzuka's fiery incitement.

"We're gonna ace this, Team Nara!" Kaito's ear-splitting grin reveals his elongated canines as he slings both arms around the shoulders of his teammates, slouching quite a bit to reach Sakura's height. "Chūnin Exams, here we come!"

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the horrendously long wait. Midterm exams and a horrid case of writer's block ensured that everything I typed would not come out naturally, and I figured you guys would rather read a delayed and rather short chapter than a half-assed one.

And yup, this chapter was pretty much all shameless fluff—another reason why it took so long. I don't usually do fluff. Was it alright, though? Do you guys find it to your liking? Would you like even more shameless fluff in the future?

Thank you for helping this fic surpass more than 24k views!

Feedback is appreciated!


	10. ix: chūnin exams (part i)

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

5/3/2017

Shanghai

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: It seems another problem has popped up on FanFiction, as several readers have reported that they did not receive notifications about new chapters for this fic. I myself did not get one either, and some of the stories I've been following are having the same problem, too. I _think_ they've gotten it fixed now, but it also wouldn't hurt to check periodically on the stories you follow, just in case.

And I've gone back to revise all the previous chapters after detecting many grammar errors or wanting to add more things—especially information concerning Sakura's past. Most of the additions are minuscule and really not that important. However, you may want to check chapter three, Sakura's first day at the Academy. Yep, sorry for creating all that mess when I really should've been working on this chapter instead!

Thank you all for all the wonderful feedback on the previous chapter!

See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter ix.-**

 _chūnin exams (part i.)_

* * *

"What defines us is how well we rise after falling." –Anonymous

* * *

The air is still stifling and damp from last evening's rain, causing her wide-collared shirt to flatten uncomfortably against her skin as Shikaku leads his three students into the arena, double-doors swinging shut behind them.

Sakura sighs faintly through her nose as she peers around; the place is as exactly as she remembers it to be. Well, before it had crumbled down to mere ruins when Konohagakure had been razed to the ground, that is.

"This is kinda disappointing," Kaito says as he looks around with a confused frown. Ryū raises his snout and sniffs the air suspiciously, pawing at the stone ground. "Where is everyone? Where are the flashing lights? Where is the thundering applause to signify our awesome entrance?"

For Sakura, it's strange how empty the arena is without other shinobi from different villages to participate. Before the end of the Third Shinobi War, villages originally held their own individual exams. Only after the war did exams open to all villages start being held bi-annually, with villages taking turns for hosting responsibilities.

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself, don't you think? This is only the first stage," Sakura remarks, before murmuring from the corner of her mouth, "Three o'clock. The team with two girls. Two brunettes and a blonde."

Said team is currently eyeing them—or, more specifically, Sakura. She detects a mixture of curiosity and wariness directed at her, but does not turn her head to face them, choosing instead to observe them from the corner of an eye.

"They don't smell particularly interesting except for one female," Kaito says lowly, not even shifting to try stealing a glance at them. "She has a charred smell about her. Something like burnt wood, like cinders and ashes—yes, that's it. She's probably fire-natured or lightning-natured or both. Let's hope you're the one who gets to face her, Sakura."

"I've seen them around," Mika whispers, inclining her head to one side so a sheet of pale hair shields her moving lips. "They graduated one year before us. The girl in the middle with brown hair tied up in a ponytail—the one Kaito mentioned—is quite talented, so I've heard. Her specialty is ninjutsu."

"As to be expected of a Yamanaka," Shikaku says approvingly. "You've shown a great deal of promise in intel-gathering, Mika. This skill will be useful when we embark on jutsu-theft missions."

The girl's blush darkens even further when Kaito pulls her in for a fist-bump.

"You two are doing just as well," Shikaku says to his other students. "Tsume was right; your nose is among the best in your clan, Kaito. Sakura, your eyes are as keen as ever even without the Sharingan activated. Keep it up."

More participants start to trickle into the arena as the designated time approaches. When the last team arrives, a chūnin moves over to the closed double-doors to stand guard. The Hokage hasn't come to watch, probably buried up to his nose in paperwork as he attends to the troubling matters of war in the closure of his office.

' _Six teams. Eighteen genin,'_ Sakura notes silently as they make their way up to the balcony.

"Any useful tips?" Kaito nudges Shikaku. "Can you tell us anything about this exam?"

"As I've told you, this exam will be quite different from the ones we used to hold," Shikaku says. "In fact, there will only be two stages. Neither one are very creative, if I do say so myself."

"Only two?" Mika asks. "Why?"

"The war is closing in on us," Shikaku sighs. "That's all I can tell you. Don't question me further; I've already disclosed enough information as it is. Besides, it looks like the first stage of the exams is about to start."

The jōnin who steps up to the center of the arena declares himself as their proctor.

"Please come down when I call your name," he tells them. "You will then engage in an one-on-one match, and the victors will proceed to the next and final stage."

[ _martyr_ ]

The first match is nothing special.

At the beginning, the girl and boy appears to be evenly matched, for the both of them are heavy-hitters with unimpressive speed—until the girl missteps and takes a brutal punch to her temple that knocks her out. The remaining genin watches with rising apprehension for their own impending matches as medics rush forward to carry the girl away in a stretcher.

"That was a little boring," Kaito mutters to his teammates. "Make sure to put up a good show when it's our turn, yeah? We gotta remind them that Team Nara ain't something they can mess with!"

"Second match: Hyūga Natsu," the proctor announces from below, "and Yamanaka Mika."

"Yeah! Go get her, Mika!" Kaito envelops her in a hug, but Mika appears too worried and stricken to even blush.

"A H-Hyūga?" she stutters out, barely registering Shikaku's encouraging words or Ryū head-bump.

"Use the water-natured techniques that Shikaku-sensei taught you," Sakura says to her. "Try to avoid an open taijutsu match unless you have something special planned. Play to your strengths, Mika. Don't hold back."

"Hai," Mika replies, gathering herself together, and then gives her team a nervous smile before walking down the stairs to the center of the arena where her opponent is already waiting at.

"You've always been a gentle soul, Yamanaka-san. I have no desire to rough you up too bad," Natsu says, by way of greeting. "You will not last long in this war. You are not like Uchiha-san who was born to do this. The shinobi lifestyle does not suit you. The real world out there will devour you alive. Forfeit now, and you will be doing yourself a favor."

 _'Born to do this? Me?'_ Sakura almost laughs aloud. If only Natsu knew that only decades and decades of blood, sweat, and tears had shaped her to become who she is today. Now, it is her heritage and covert duty to the world that demands it of her.

And, most importantly, if only Natsu knew the true extent of Mika's prowess.

"Do…D-Do you know what _I_ think?" Mika asks, before lifting her chin, blue eyes narrowed and alight with pale fire. "I think you're _afraid_ to face me! I think you want me to quit beforehand only because you know that I will win! I-I think…I'm correct, aren't I, Hyūga-san?"

Natsu appears taken aback at the other girl's words. She clearly does not remember Mika being so outspoken and bold back in their Academy days.

"If that is what you believe, very well," Natsu finally replies. "I will not hold back. Do not say I did not warn you."

On Sakura's right, Kaito parodies the Hyūga's words in falsetto, voice low enough to not be heard by the other teams, yet loud enough to draw forth identical smirks from both Sakura and Shikaku.

When Natsu rushes forward, palms raised, Mika swiftly backflips towards the end of the arena until she reaches the wall, and in a show of speed, kicks off against the concrete surface. Natsu's eyes widen as Mika shoots towards her at an alarming speed, before she, too, quickens her pace to meet the other girl head-on.

At the last second, Mika's hands flash through seals, releasing a violent torrent of water that propels herself higher into the air. Once again caught by surprise at Mika's drastic improvement from her Academy days, Natsu barely manages to dance away from the jutsu, skidding to a halt and pivoting on her heel.

The Hyūga stares thoughtfully as Mika lands back down to the ground.

"You've improved," Natsu says. "But so have I."

Even from the balcony, the spectators can see the sudden bulge of veins around Natsu's eyes.

' _She activated her Byakugan without any hand seals,'_ Sakura thinks to herself, faintly impressed. _'Not sure about Neji, but Hinata certainly couldn't have done that at her age.'_

Mika's teammates watch tensely as she creates a small army of clones that rush towards the Hyūga.

"This amateur technique is useless against me," Natsu calls as she effortlessly ducks away from illusionary strikes, not even bothering to raise a single hand. "My Byakugan sees through everything."

Natsu has just dispelled the clones with a sharp pulse of her own chakra when an open-toed shinobi shoe flies at her from out of nowhere. She snags it with one hand, her expression baffled as she asks, "What is the meaning of this, Yamanaka-san?"

Mika is currently hanging from the ceiling with the bottom of her feet charged with chakra. One would have to crane their head up to keep an eye on the girl, but with her Byakugan, Natsu does not even need to twitch a muscle to get a good look at her opponent.

For her own part, Sakura stifles a snort of laughter; she knows what is going to happen and she can't wait to see Natsu bear the brunt of it. Nothing personal, really.

Not a moment later, the shoe disappears in a poof of smoke—a result of one of the most finely executed _kawarimi_ Sakura has ever seen from a genin—only to be replaced by a girl with pale hair, held at the collar of her shirt by her opponent. Mika's fist flies out, catching a startled Natsu in the jaw, and the Hyūga is sent sprawling away with a grunt.

"Nice trick, Mika!" Kaito hollers.

"Creative," Natsu spits a glob of blood-laced spittle to the ground, rising to her feet, "if not a little ineffective."

Mika frowns; she'd hoped that the kick would've been forceful enough to knock her opponent out. She blanches as Natsu rushes towards her again, hands raised in the style of Jūken. She's not ready to engage in a taijutsu fight with a Hyūga just yet, so hopefully ninjutsu will keep her busy—for now, anyway.

The tendrils of water that she send towards Natsu are a water-style variation of one of the Nara's shadow-manipulation techniques. As swift-footed as Natsu has proven to be, even she cannot escape unscathed. Though it may not look like much, every streak of the water is as sharp as any blade.

' _Her chakra reserves aren't as plentiful as mine or Kaito's_ ,' Sakura thinks, becoming slightly worried when several tendrils of water waver in the air, slowing their assault. _'Whatever she's planning, she better carry it out before her ninjutsu usage exhausts her.'_

Almost as if Mika has heard her thoughts, she releases her jutsu and snatches a kunai from her pouch, lunging forward to exchange quick blows with her opponent. Although she manages to cut Natsu in a few places, the true superior between the two girls becomes clear to the spectators as the taijutsu fight progresses. Mika lets out a hoarse cry when she doesn't twist out of the way fast enough, and her mistake costs her the loss of a right arm when Natsu slams her palm against the limb with what must be enough force to shut down multiple tenketsu. The Hyūga smoothly follows up with another slam of her palm directly against Mika's chest, and her opponent drops to the floor.

"You're finished, Mika-san," Natsu says between panting breaths, and kicks Mika's kunai out of her hand. "I underestimated you, I admit. I did not know you could fare so well in taijutsu even as a member of the Yamanaka."

"P-Put in a team with an Inuzuka and Uchiha, it was a gi-given fact that I had to improve my taijutsu in order to support my teammates with the best of my abilities—" Mika breaks off with a hacking cough.

"You may have improved," Natsu replies, the hand she's placed on the other girl's shoulder tightening its grip as she prepares for the final blow. "But you made the wrong decision when you decided to get into a taijutsu match with a Hyūga."

"N-No, it was the correct one," Mika wheezes. "Because…it allowed me to do _this_!"

Using the proximity that the Hyūga has unknowingly benefitted her with, Mika's uninjured hand flies up to close around Natsu's wrist, and then both girls abruptly slumps to the ground with twin gasps.

It is a long, terse moment before Natsu's still form twitches. Pushing herself up onto one knee, she raises a shaking arm into the air.

"I, Hyūga Natsu, forfeit this match!"

"Is your decision final, Hyūga Natsu?" the jōnin asks.

"Yes," Natsu—Mika—answers.

"Winner: Yamanaka Mika!" the jōnin announces, and the girl collapses to the ground again barely a moment later.

While Kaito leans over the railing in alarm, Sakura is torn between pride and a wave of nostalgia of what-could've-beens so strong it almost sweeps her off her feet. Shikaku leaps down to retrieve Mika, dismissing the medics with his presence and bringing his student back up to the balcony.

"Let her rest," he tells his other two students as he props her carefully against the wall. "Don't disturb her, Kaito. Don't waste your chakra to heal her, Sakura. For now, focus on your upcoming exams. Mika will soon wake up on her own." He takes out a small container of pills and slips one between her lips. "Chakra pills made from Nara deer antlers," he explains.

"Cool! Can I have one, too?" Kaito asks.

"Nope," Shikaku answers. "That would be considered cheating since your match hasn't come up yet."

Kaito draws back with a relenting nod, fixing his eyes on the third match that is just starting.

[ _martyr_ ]

True to their teacher's words, Mika comes to during the middle of the third match.

"How're you feeling?" Kaito crouches down beside her when he notices her eyes flutter open.

"D-Did…" Mika rasps, struggling to straighten up. "Did I win?"

Sakura lowers herself onto one knee on her other side, placing a soothing hand on one shoulder. "Yes, you did," she reassures her teammate. "You got her good."

She feels more than sees Mika relax underneath her palm with a tired yet pleased smile forming on her lips.

There is a commotion below as one genin sends the other crashing to the floor, rendering him unconscious, before the proctor announces her victor. The girl walks back up to the stairs to join her team, while the boy is carried away on a stretcher.

"Fourth match: Tamada Hiroki," the proctor then booms, "and Uchiha Sakura."

Sakura stands up from her crouched position, eyes sweeping over the people in the balcony. The boy announces himself by stepping up to the railing and raising an arm.

"I forfeit the match," he declares indifferently. For a moment, faint regret paints itself over his face, before he nods in self-affirmation and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Is your decision final, Tamada Hiroki?" the proctor asks him.

"Y—"

"What?" yells the boy beside him, presumably his teammate. "Are you kidding me? You've been working so hard for this!"

"I don't care." Even from the distance, Sakura can see the muscles in his jaw twitch as he speaks through gritted teeth, "I don't want to go up against _her_. It's not like you weren't there when sensei told us of the things she's done on missions. I'd rather stay a genin than _die_ for an exam."

A hand lands on her shoulder, and she looks back to see Shikaku, his expression indecipherable. Absently, she realizes that she has involuntarily stiffened up at Hiroki's words.

"Hey!" Kaito barks from beside her. "Do you even know what you're saying? We're all Konoha-nin here! Sakura would never go as far as to _kill_ her nakama."

Sakura just barely refrains from jerking violently out of Shikaku's grip, for Kaito's word has jarred something she has took care to bury deep down within her.

She still remembers Anko's agonized screaming as flame-like markings had spread across her body, how her comrade had arched violently and then slumped against her when Sakura had driven the blade into her heart, and then, finally, the graze of her lips against her ear as she'd used her last breath to thank Sakura.

" _It's not your fault,"_ Kakashi had told her again and again, gripping her shoulders and forcing her eyes to meet his. _"She was no longer herself. You freed her."_

But even now, Sakura has never quite forgiven herself, and for a split-second, she thinks she can feel her friend's warm blood once again dribble down her neck and pool into the dip of her collarbones, searing her skin—and then a voice pulls her back into her surroundings.

"—I'm not going to humiliate myself," Hiroki is saying.

"Oh, you're kidding me," his teammate groans, rolling his eyes.

"You may want to reconsider, Hiroki-san," Sakura speaks up, more to turn her thoughts away from her past than for his sake. "This isn't about winning. This isn't about defeating your opponent. Success does not guarantee a successful promotion, nor does failure prelude it. The purpose of all this is to prove to your superiors that you possess the necessary skills you need to rightfully earn the promotion."

"What does it all matter if I can't even pass the first round?" Hiroki scoffs.

"It matters a great deal when you apply for the exams the next time they come by. Every match is recorded and written down for the examiners to review. Even if you may lose this round, you will be attending the next Chūnin Exams when they are again hosted, no?"

At her words, the boy's expression turns pensive, before a scowl overtakes his features.

"I can't stand your know-it-all attitude anymore," Hiroki mutters under his breath, but Sakura is constantly cycling chakra to all her senses in order to build up her reserves and train her precision, so she catches his words nevertheless. She feels her lips curl slightly when he raises his voice, "Proctor, I revoke my words!"

Hiroki makes his way back to the center of the arena, and she uses the time to study him. Her opponent seems to be at least skilled in kenjutsu, if the naginata strapped to his hip is of any indication. But if she has it her way, he will not even get the chance to use it.

As soon as the proctor signals the start of the match with a slash of his hand, she instantly _shunshins_ forward. She intends to end this as soon as possible.

' _Chakra scalpels. Be careful not to cause permanent harm.'_

She does not even give him enough time pinpoint her position before her fist smashes into the center of his face. His vision washes white with blinding pain, and he stumbles backwards, right hand flashing to the hilt of his naginata. Not a moment later, as if a string has been snipped, his fingers involuntarily slackens and his arm falls back down to his side.

"What—"

Something snakes around his ankle, and his whole world swirls before his eyes as his back painfully collides against the ground, a whoosh of air expelling from his lungs.

' _She's too fast!'_

Bracing a hand against the cold stone floor, he prepares to push himself back onto his feet, before completely freezing in his spot when something cold and sharp slides under his chin and fits snugly against his throat.

"Yield," a voice whispers into his ear.

He tries sneaking his left hand down to his other naginata, but discovers to his chagrin that they won't obey him no matter how hard and desperately he strains. He then tries to kick out, but his legs only flop lifelessly below him, knees clanging uselessly against the ground.

"What have you done?" In his horror, he jerks around to look at her, only to flinch when his attempt drives the kunai deeper against his skin.

"Yield," she repeats, holding him in place. The kunai presses with increasing insistency against his throat until he feels his skin split under the piercing edge. "I have effectively severed your muscle tissues and tendons. You are no longer able to initiate an attack or move to defend yourself. An immobile shinobi is a dead shinobi."

After another few seconds of useless struggling, he finally slumps in defeat.

"Fine," he grits out, "I yield."

"Is your decision final, Tamada Hiroki?" the jōnin asks.

"Does it look like I have any other options?" Hiroki snaps, face flushed with shame and mortification at being defeated so easily in the span of barely ten seconds at the hands of a little girl less than three times his age and more than half of his size—and then promptly remembers that said girl is no normal girl.

Sakura finally relents her grip on him and presses glowing hands to the muscle tissues she had severed, mending the invisible injuries she'd inflicted.

"I told you I wouldn't win," Hiroki says surly, but nevertheless accepts her proffered hand that pulls him back to his feet.

"You're still alive, aren't you?" Sakura replies.

At that, he cannot hold in a snort of laughter despite himself.

[ _martyr_ ]

"That was very…quick and rather anticlimactic," Mika remarks, stunned, watching Sakura ascend the stairs to join them. "I think my match must have taken thrice as long." She then smiles widely and steps forward to squeeze the younger girl in a congratulatory hug. "You were amazing, Sakura-chan."

"You were so fast I lost sight of you for a few moments," Kaito grins at her, holding up a fist to which she bumps against with her own. "But I was kinda hoping that you would've used the chance to show off your Sharingan. It would've been so cool to watch."

"There was no reason to," Sakura replies, shrugging. "It would've been overkill."

"Now that I think about it," Kaito says. "You don't use your Sharingan often."

"Many of the Uchiha overly depend on their Sharingan. I'm determined not to allow myself such a weakness. An elite shinobi is one who is well-rounded in every aspect," Sakura says. "Besides, the weekly training sessions with my father are more than enough to develop and improve my Sharingan abilities, I assure you."

It's true. Fugaku rarely has free time on his hands, but when he does, he chooses to spend a large portion of it taking Sakura's shinobi training into his own hands. He teaches her many things, though most are facts she is already aware of, or techniques she has already mastered long ago: The history of the Uchiha clan, the many different methods of casting a layered genjutsu with the Sharingan, the best way to ignite the largest fireball, and so on.

"In the first B-rank mission we had," Kaito suddenly says, eyes carefully fixed on the fights taking place below the balcony. "I saw you kill that boy."

His words immediately slice apart the pleasant lightheartedness of her easy victory.

"Which one?" Sakura asks lightly. "There were quite a few of them."

"The one who would've had killed me if you hadn't interfered at the last second," Kaito says, not before a hesitating pause. "For a moment there, I thought you were going to kill that boy just like you had done him."

"Fighting in a war and competing in an exam are two very different things," Sakura says, and her tone is sharper than she has intended it to be.

Anko's tormented face surges up behind her eyelids before she forces herself to concentrate on the warm brownness of Kaito's chocolate-colored eyes.

"You know that's not what I meant, Sakura," he replies calmly.

She dips her head slowly in a nod, eyes lowering. "I know, and I-I'm sorry. It's just…this exam is making me uptight."

"You mean," Kaito smirks, eyes teasing, "even more uptight than usual? Although technically, that should be impossible considering—" he breaks off mid-sentence, ducking away from her half-hearted swipe at his head.

"Congratulations on passing the first round, Sakura, Mika," Shikaku quips in, completely diffusing any remnants of the previous tension. "And I take it that the shinobi of Konoha will be introduced to many new foreign jutsus after we become an actual, active jutsu-theft squad, ne, Team Nara?"

"You can count on me, too, sensei!" Kaito promises him. "Ryū and I are also gonna win our match!"

"Oh, I know you guys will," Shikaku chuckles, a hand darting out to ruffle the boy's hair with rough affection, laughing louder when the boy yelps in protest. Ryū is not so in opposition of the man's treatment like his parter, pawing at Shikaku's pants until he stoops down to rub his ears.

Behind the three males, Sakura exchanges an affectionately exasperated glance with Mika, both girls simultaneously rolling their eyes before turning back to the arena to watch the fights happening below.

[ _martyr_ ]

"Ninth and final match: Inuzuka Kaito and Ono Kaede."

"You forgot about Ryū!" Kaito shouts down in reply. "How could you ignore him just like that?"

"Oi," Shikaku claps the boy's shoulder. "Get down for your match already."

"Wait a moment," Kaito stares at something—someone—across the balcony, his eyes following the girl who is making her way down the stairs. "Isn't that…? Hey, that's the girl we were talking about earlier. The girl who specializes in ninjutsu."

"Yes, yes, you'll lucky to be facing against someone who appears to be a worthy opponent," Shikaku drawls. "Now, are you going to make your way down by yourself or would you prefer to bask in the honor of being pushed down by yours truly?"

"Good luck, Kaito-kun and Ryū-kun!" Mika wraps her arms around him in a light embrace, still a little worn-out from her earlier match, before squatting down to scratch behind Ryū's ears.

"Judging by her chakra fluctuations, she can be impulsive and easy to rile up if fed the correct words," Sakura tells him. "Play smart. I know you're more than capable." Ryū rears up on his hind legs, tail wagging when Sakura bends down to scratch below his chin. "You have more than enough bite to match up to your bark," she tells him. "Fight well."

"Just watch us!" Kaito promises them, grinning wildly. "Expect an epic showdown!"

With those last words, he and Ryū hops onto the railing of the balcony before somersaulting down gracefully.

"Show off," Shikaku murmurs fondly.

"Ah, an Inuzuka and his pet puppy," the girl, Kaede, says. "My, I can smell you from here."

"Oh, yeah?" Kaito sneers back. "You don't smell very pleasant either, and remember, Inuzuka noses don't lie."

"My ninjutsu against yours," she crouches in a ready stance with a haughty tilt of her chin. "Allow me to show you just whose is superior. Bring it on, filthy mutts."

"Oh, _no_ ," Kaito snarls as Ryū raises his hackles, fur rising along the arch of his back. "You did _not_ just call us that."

The girl smirks, not seeming to notice what Sakura does: Kaito and Ryū's chakra flow remains steady and calm, a surprising contradiction from the rage contorting their faces.

' _It's all a pretense_ , _'_ Sakura realizes. ' _Clever boys.'_

"She's trying to rile them up," she murmurs to Mika. "It would've been a smart move if they were indeed the type to be lead around by their emotions. Seeing as she's oblivious to the fact that they're not…well, this will be interesting."

"Kaito-kun and Ryū-kun will win," Mika replies with a firm nod. "I'm sure of it."

"You may begin!" the proctor declares, looking equal parts amused and vexed at Kaito and Kaede's back-and-forth jesting.

" _Gijū Ninpō: Shikyaku no Jutsu!"_

Flipping backwards rapidly, Kaede plants her feet to the wall in a move similar to Mika's and flashes through hand seals, expelling a strong gust of thick flames that fly towards the whirling column of teeth and claws that is Kaito and Ryū. To her visible shock, her jutsu does nothing to deter her opponents' persistence, for Kaito and Ryū simply break through the blazes and head straight for her. She is forced to leap away before they can crash into her.

"I work with an Uchiha on a daily basis," Kaito barks out a laugh, perched on the wall. "And she's not just any Uchiha. She's the heiress and their prized prodigy. Don't think you can beat me with your second-rate fire-natured or lightning-natured jutsus. They are _nothing_ compared to Sakura's!"

"Cease your noisy barking," Kaede scowls. "You have no idea how many more tricks I have up my sleeve!"

"Wow, what a coincidence," Kaito calls back. "So do I!"

' _Honestly,'_ Sakura thinks absently to herself, _'the resemblance between him and Naruto and Kiba is so uncanny it's almost eerie.'_

"Ready, Ryū?" Kaito asks his parter, and the ninken turns to him with an answering bark. " _Gatenga!"_

" _Katon: Hōsenka no Jutsu!"_ Kaede shouts in return, and then a volley of small fireballs is zooming rapidly towards her opponents. Even though Kaito and Ryū had broken though her first jutsu with ease, she does not think that they will still be on their feet after this one. Although lacking in size, every little fireball is packed with intense power and is extremely hard to dodge.

Sure enough, the buzzsaw-like shapes that are her opponents stutter to a halt after several fireballs make painful contact. Without wasting time, Kaito and Ryū spring to their feet and charge towards her. Kaito takes a swing at her when he gets in range, but she ducks under his arm and lashes out behind her with one foot, kicking away the dog who has just attempted to get at her from her other side. She moves closer and grabs hold of Kaito's arm, twisting it into an obviously uncomfortable position. It is a harsh movement, and Sakura's chakra-cycling ears hear her teammate's shoulder creak.

"Gotcha," Kaede says, but the grin is wiped off of her face when a poof of smoke reveals that it is Ryū who is clutched in her hand, not Kaito. In an impressive display of animal flexibility, Ryū twists around the fingers Kaede has clenched over his paw and sinks his fangs into her wrist.

"When did they use the transformation technique?" Mika asks aloud, eyes wide and raptured by the sudden turn of events. "I didn't see that coming at all."

"Get your filthy hands off my ninken!" Kaito yells as he bursts in front of Kaede, _henge_ sliding off and revealing his human form. He clocks his opponent in the cheek, sending her crashing away in a tangle of limbs. He follows right after her, driving a fist into her stomach and another one against her forehead—and then she is out like a light.

"Winner: Inuzuka Kaito!"

Breathing heavily, Kaito angles his face towards the balcony and meets the eyes of his proud teammates, raising a fist and baring his teeth in victory. And although Ryū is limping slightly, he gives them the canine-equivalent of a grin, tongue lolling out of his maw.

"So, all three of you passed," Shikaku says, slouching against the wall and crinkling his eyes at Sakura and Mika when the girls turn to look at him. "I'm not surprised, of course. But it looks like Hizashi now owes me twenty ryō."

"And now," the proctor says loudly from below, "for the second stage of the Chūnin Exams—victors, please come forward."

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: Huh, fight scenes…one day, I'll be good at writing them. One day. Sakura's scene was disappointingly short since she was facing an opponent that was far below her skill-level, I know, but I promise she'll get more action in the second round. And if you don't remember, Hyūga Natsu was and will be the caretaker of Hanabi in canon-verse. I didn't want to create too many OCs, and so I thought she would fit in quite nicely.

Feedback is appreciated!


	11. x: chūnin exams (interlude)

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

6/3/2017

Shanghai

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: I was afraid that I kinda screwed up on the fight scenes in the previous chapter, so I'm super relieved that most of you found the fight scenes to your liking! The supportive reviews really brightened me up, so thank you very much for that! On an unrelated note, I took my finals just recently and graduated from ninth grade! To be honest, unlike some of my friends, I'm not at all excited or happy. My future is this one grey blob in front of me that I'd rather not walk towards to.

See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter x.-**

 _chūnin exams (interlude)_

* * *

"All for one and one for all.

United we stand,

divided we fall."

-Alexandre Dumas

* * *

"And now," the proctor says loudly from below, "for the second stage of the Chūnin Exams—victors, please come forward."

"I'm super excited," Kaito says to Sakura and Mika after they make their way down to beside him, "but also kinda nervous. What do you think they'll have us do? Survive a week in the Forest of Death? A timed paper exam? Fight each other to the death? I heard from Tsume-obaa that they've got something similar like that going on in Kirigakure. The Bloody Mist, they're calling them these days. And did you see what I did just then? I totally pummeled her, man. Guess brawn isn't everything when you don't use your brain, eh?"

"We saw, Kaito-kun," Mika replies with equal enthusiasm. "You and Ryū were really smart using the transformation jutsu like that."

"I know, right? And also—"

"Hush," Sakura murmurs. "The proctor's about to speak."

"Since the first stage has now been wrapped up, I will no longer be proctoring you lot," the jōnin says, stepping away and allowing another man to take his place. "I wish you the best of luck."

A jolt of recognition shoots through Sakura when she lays her eyes on the other man who introduces himself as their second proctor for the second and final stage.

' _Maruboshi Kosuke,'_ Sakura echoes silently. ' _Konoha's Strongest Genin, also known as the Eternal Genin.'_

In her past, she'd been utterly confused as to why a man so easily the caliber of a jōnin would choose to officially remain a genin for the rest of his life—and then Tsunade had told her of _his_ past and she'd never looked at the elderly man the same way again.

She has no idea what had befallen him in her original timeline, though. Of course, there is even a possibility that he'd still been alive when she'd died. Tsunade may appear eternally young and beautiful, but Kosuke's astonishing longevity may very well be remarkable enough to rival immortality.

His black hair, already streaked with grey, is tied up in his usual short ponytail, and he appears to have already discarded the blue jacket he'd worn in his youth for the brown kimono-styled top with the pair of grey pants that she recognizes from her past. The huge wok along with his ladle and sheathed sword is also present on his back. A swift, almost indiscernible flash of her Sharingan confirms the existence of chakra circulating through both legs. _'Maybe the Third Shinobi War was and will be the reason for his prosthetic leg, just like how it had given and will give Shikaku his scars.'_

"In the career of shinobi, there will be numerous times when we find ourselves facing off against more skillful opponents," Kosuke starts."Opponents stronger than us, smarter than us, _better_ than us. Although a handful of the lesser shinobi might escape with a number of scars to show and tell, most usually find themselves fighting their last and final battle, never to walk the way back home on their own feet."

An air of somberness settles around the gathered people, and any satisfied smiles a few victors had previously worn are now wiped cleanly off their faces.

Suddenly, Kosuke points a finger at the boy who'd won the first match of the first stage.

"Huh?" the boy points his own finger at himself in confusion. "Me?"

"How long have you been with your genin team?" Kosuke asks.

"A-A few months," he stutters out, visibly intimidated by the sheer intensity of the proctor's weighted stare.

' _He's been a genin only for a few months and his teacher signs his team up to the Chūnin Exams?'_ Sakura thinks to herself incredulously. _'No wonder all he'd shown in his match were the most basic taijutsu moves. The girl must have been his teammate. Kami, I know this is war—but honestly,_ what _was his teacher thinking?'_

"Do you work well with your teammates?" Kosuke presses.

"I—well, I-I guess…?" the boy answers feebly. "We practice taijutsu together—a-and we're pretty good at it, if I do say so myself."

"No, not really," Kaito mutters almost inaudibly under his breath. "Just—no."

Sakura does not feel a shred of guilt from agreeing with his statement. Even kindhearted Mika is not trying to defend the other boy—and then promptly adopts an expression of horror and self-shame when she catches herself in the act of nodding in agreement.

"Do you trust each other, then?"

"Uh, I don't get what you mean by that, proctor-san."

"I apologize," Kosuke says. "Perhaps my question wasn't straightforward enough. I'll rephrase it: Would you trust your teammates with your life? Tell the truth."

"Um, well…" the boy trails off uncertainly.

"The truth, child."

"I…I don't know. I'm not sure—I-I don't think so. No, not really."

"You wouldn't dare put your life in their hands?" Kosuke asks, and something in his voice and eyes tells them that the boy has just failed some sort of test.

"No, I wouldn't," the boy admits. "They're not skilled enough. None of us are. Left in their care, I would probably die sooner than fated—"

"You!" Kosuke points his finger at a girl.

"What?"

"How long have you been with your genin team?"

"Two years."

"Do you work well with your teammates?"

"We make a formidable team together, yes."

"Would you trust—"

"Hell, no," she scoffs, lips seemingly curling in disgust at the mere question. "They'd probably turn tail and run away at the first sign of danger and leave me behnd all alone in the dust—"

" _Hey_ ," the boy beside her says in annoyance. "You're not very reliable or trustworthy either. Don't talk like you wouldn't do the very same thing. It's been two years, and you're still the same whiny little bitc—"

"You, boy!" Kosuke points his finger at his next victim.

"Ask away," Kaito replies confidently.

"How long have you been with your genin team?" Kosuke barks the question.

Although she doesn't show it, Sakura is a little surprised at the elderly man's vehemence. She knows that he can be deadly serious and stern when engaging in real action, but most of the time, he is usually a kind and collected old man with a wizened wisdom that comes from his many years of knowledge and expertise.

"One full year plus a few weeks," Kaito answers.

"Do you work well with your teammates?"

"Yes! Well, Sakura here was a bit of an ass in the beginning, you see—but it seems I was also a bit of an ass, I've been told—but yes, of course!"

"Would you trust your teammates with your life?"

"Definitely! With my life!"

"Excellent!" Kosuke exclaims. "Prove it, then."

A moment of silence follows his words.

"Prove it?" Kaito finally speaks. "What is there to prove?"

"What are words when you can't back them up?" Kosuke asks him. "You said that you trust your teammates with your life— _prove it_."

Kaito bristles as Ryū's hackles rises.

"You don't believe me, old man? Are you implying that I'm a liar?I don't have to prove anything to you, nor to the rest of the world. Anyone can believe in anything they want, but nothing will change the fact that I'm speaking the truth. You'll see for yourself when Team Nara dominates the second round, and trust me, I'll be there to say _I told you so_."

Sakura feels Mika tense beside her, pressing in close as if readying herself for some kind of retaliation from Kosuke. Ryū lets out a warning rumble deep in his throat, while Kaito stares challengingly at the older man, arms crossed over his chest sullenly.

And then, unexpectedly, Kosuke bends over at the waist and _laughs_.

"Ha!" the man chortles, slapping at his knees. "That's exactly what I'm talking about! Clever boy!"

The genin of Team Nara exchange incredulous glances. They crane their necks to peer up at Shikaku for any form of an answer, but the man only shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, an amused smirk stretching his mouth wide.

It seems to take an actual five minutes before Kosuke finally calms down, beaming radiantly in a way that reminds her more of the kindly old man she remembers him to be.

"Each and all of you belong on a team," he tells the nine of them. "Even if you don't like all of them or none of them—they are your teammates. You cannot choose your team, just like you cannot choose your family. You compete as one, not as individuals. Win or lose as a team. Rise or fall as a team. A unified team will always be the strongest force on the battlefield, capable of defeating even the strongest opponents by working together. Alone, you cannot win. But together—with your teammates, with your friends, with your family—you might just have a bigger chance of making it alive out of the battlefield. There is a saying in Konohagakure, heard first from the Shodai Hokage: All for one, one for all."

"We are familiar with the Will of Fire, Maruboshi-san," a girl cuts in quite rudely. "What is your reason for telling us all this?"

"Patience, child," Kosuke chuckles. "The reason I am telling you all this is because for the second stage of this exam, freshly-promoted chūnin teams will be handpicked to fight against genin teams in a three-on-three fight. The main objective is to retrieve three scrolls from either side."

' _Freshly promoted chūnin?'_ Sakura muses silently, the gears in her mind clicking and whirring away as she quickly goes through a few mathematics, taking jagged pieces of her memory and jamming them together. At this point, Nohara Rin and Uchiha Obito should be among the batch of fresh chūnin, while Hatake Kakashi is close to becoming a jōnin already—meaning, Team Minato is active and will very likely make an entrance. _'Handpicked,'_ she adds, going over Kosuke's words. _'The chūnin teams are handpicked to fight against the genin teams, he said. Team Nara is undoubtedly the strongest genin team here, so it is only natural that_ _we will be matched against the strongest handpicked chūnin team.'_

"Isn't that kinda unfair?" Kaito asks. "In some teams, only one or two members could've succeeded in progressing to the next round. How can they compete with an incomplete team?"

"Ah, I'm just getting to that part. As you can see, there is a total of nine genin who have progressed to the second stage," Kosuke explains. "Of the nine, only one single team has successfully passed the first stage with all three members as victors: Team Nara. Among the remaining six genin, four come from different teams while two are from the same. One genin from the four will fill in the empty slot left within the two-man team, and the other three will form a new team. Now, there are three formed teams and not a single person left out."

"It's still unfair, though," Kaito insists. "The other genin won't have the familiarity among their newly established teammates that Team Nara has. The fact that they're almost strangers to each other will make it even harder for them to conduct their teamwork well enough to face off against chūnin."

"And it's three genin against three chūnin," one girl adds. "How will we win if the numbers are equal for both sides? It is expected that chūnin-level ninja are more skilled than we are, and also more than likely that they have better coordinated teamwork than we do. There's no way for us to win like that. This is so unfair."

"It's not about winning," Kosuke answers. "It's about displaying to your superiors that you possess the necessary skills you need to rightfully earn the promotion. Those vests aren't handed out freely, after all. And whoever said that war is fair? That's one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard. I've fought alongside the Nidaime, the Sandaime, the Ino-Shika-Chō trio, the one and only White Fang—and I've seen for myself that there is no fairness in war, only the thin line between survival and death."

' _No honor, either,'_ Sakura thinks darkly. _'After all, they all look the same when they're dead.'_

"Who will teach us, then?" a boy calls. "We've got different teachers."

"Each team will be taught by all your teachers, of course," Kosuke answers. "Team Nara will continue to train under the guidance of their jōnin teacher, Team A will be taken under the wing of three different teachers, and Team B will be led by two. After all, it is your teachers who should be the most familiar with your fighting styles and techniques. Any more questions?"

The gathered genin shake their heads in reply.

"Well, then," Kosuke clasps his hands in conclusion. "The entire village will be present at the second round, and Hokage-sama himself and even the daimyō of Hi no Kuni has scrapped together enough time to be able to come watch your matches. Train hard and fight well. Until then, you have exactly one week to prepare yourselves."

[ _martyr_ ]

Turns out, she'd been correct in her speculations.

"Hatake Kakashi," Sakura murmurs as her eyes rove over the contents of the scroll Kosuke had tossed at them yesterday. "The prodigious son of the White Fang."— ' _Rokudaime, mentor,partner, friend, and brother. It's been a long time, ne, Kakashi?'_ Becausewhile Tsunade had practically been a second mother to her, he had been more of an eccentric older brother.

The victors of the first stage had been ordered to return to their respective homes in order to rest after Kosuke had explained everything. Because of how fast and effortless Sakura had defeated her opponent, all she had done when she'd returned home was to play with Itachi and help her mother around with the housework.

"Nohara Rin," Mika reads aloud from over her shoulder, "and Uchiha Obito."

"So this is the famed Team Minato," Kaito says. "Hey, the girl looks familiar! I think I may have seen her a few times in the hospital. Huh, the other boy's an Uchiha. Sakura, you know anything about him?"

"He's an orphan, and instead of living in the Uchiha clan compound, he lives somewhere near the center of Konoha with his grandmother," Sakura replies smoothly. "He didn't perform very well in the Academy, but it seems like it's more because of the fact that he's a late bloomer rather than the lack of skill or talent, for Namikaze-san once said that he's developing a notable proficiency for fire techniques. He hasn't awakened his Sharingan yet, though."

She's walked around her clan compound—which is noticeably smaller than the one they'd build after the Kyūbi's attack in her lifetime—enough times to be sure that Obito doesn't live within the uchiwa-painted walls when she couldn't detect any flicker of his familiar chakra.

"Does he go to clan meetings?" Mika asks.

"Probably not," Sakura replies. "I can't be sure, though, because I myself will only be allowed to attend when I become a chūnin."

"Then how do you know so much about him?" Kaito inquires. "Not saying it's a bad thing, by the way."

"Although I've never met him, tou-san has mentioned him a couple of times," Sakura answers. "Or, more like he's _complained_ about Obito-san enough times for me to get a small grasp of what he's generally like. Besides, Kushina-baa-chan and kaa-san are best friends, and Namikaze-san and tou-san are important figures in the village—so of course several meals have been shared together. What I've gathered from their conversations is that the boy's a troublemaker and known to be notoriously late, but they all insist he has a golden heart. It's also quite obvious to see that he's Kushina-baa-chan's favorite. His goal is to become Hokage."

"We're doomed, aren't we?" Kaito quips.

"Well," Sakura says, "we'll just have to see for ourselves, right?"

"And what do you mean by that?" Kaito says. "We aren't allowed access to personal files."

"Follow me," she simply replies, turning around to walk away before any of her teammates can ask her to further explain.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Kaito whispers to Mika, but the girl only returns his anxious glance with one of her own.

[ _martyr_ ]

"We've been here for far too long. They're going to call us out sooner or later."

"I-I think we should leave now. Shikaku-sensei will be at our training grounds soon, too."

"I wonder where Namikaze-san is at."

Collectively, Kaito and Mika turn to the third member of their team.

"You're kidding, right?" Kaito says flatly. "We have much more pressing matters to worry about instead of wondering where their teacher has gone off to."

"…Like?"

"Like getting the hell out of here before they catch us spying on them!" Kaito throws his arms up in the air, before quickly wrapping them once again around his legs, resuming his crouched position behind the gigantic boulder that is most likely the result of an earth jutsu.

"'Spying' sounds a little too extreme, don't you think?" Sakura replies. "I'd like to think of what we're doing as just some harmless little observation."

"We're going to get caught," Kaito sighs.

At his words, Sakura finally tears her eyes away from above the boulder to her teammates.

"Why do you think they gave us one whole week to prepare? And why do you think they informed us of our opponents so early before the match? It is only natural that we must become more acquainted with our opponents to gauge their abilities."

"But…but what if we get caught?"

"So what if we get caught? They're more than likely to have been informed of the exam's purpose already. There is nothing and nobody to be afraid of. If they are rational people, then surely they must understand our reasons for doing so."

Before Kaito or Mika can say anything else, a deafening rumble shakes the ground beneath their feet, and the three of them peer cautiously over the edge of the boulder to see the gray-haired boy—Kakashi—summon a thick wall of earth that shields him from the Uchiha boy's—Obito's—column of flames. Just as quickly, he flips up and away when several shuriken come zooming from behind him, curtesy of a clever wire-maneuvering technique by his female teammate, Rin.

"People say he's going to make jōnin soon," Mika whispers. "He's only one year older than me and Kaito-kun. That's amazing."

"Amazing, yes." Kaito nods. "But we of all people should know that age has no factor in power."

The two of them turn to look at the third and youngest member of their team pointedly, but Sakura pays them no heed. Her eyes are riveted on all the members of Team Minato at once.

In the past, she'd fought years and years as a partner Kakashi respected until she'd finally grown to be able to stand on equal footing with the Rokudaime. But now, with their current circumstances—she wonders who will win when they clash again.

However, her train of thought is halted rather rudely when Ryū bares his teeth and snarls just as a grey-and-blue-clad figure blurs in front of them, blocking their path. Kaito and Mika immediately spring to their feet in ready stances with weapons drawn, shoulders brushing each other's.

"You two have been following us for the past thirteen minutes," Kakashi says. "Why?"

"W-We…" Mika opens and closes her mouth helplessly, not seeming to know how to answer, pressing herself closer against Kaito when Obito and Rin walks up to Kakashi's either side. "We were just…"

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Kakashi cocks an eyebrow. "Nothing to say?"

"You ask us why?" answers another voice from behind the older children. "Simply because we were curious, of course."

The members of Team Minato whip around to greet the 'newcomer', faces displaying various degrees of surprise.

"Holy sh—" Obito yelps, before swiftly cutting himself off and clumsily lowering his torso into a bow. "Sakura-sama!"

"Where did you come from?" Kakashi demands. "What do you want?" _'I did not detect her presence at all._ Shunshin _? No, not likely. There was nothing._ Nothing _. How could that be?'_

"Mind yourself, teme!" Obito hisses, eyes darting to his teammate in panic. "That's the heiress of my clan you're bitching to!"

"Of course I know who this little brat is, dobe," Kakashi hisses back, angry at himself for being caught off-guard. "But why should I care? I am no dog of any clan."

"Excuse me—" Kaito bristles, taking the older boy's words as a personal insult.

"Be careful, Kakashi," Sakura warns, purposely addressing him with such familiarity. "This may be your home village, but there are eyes that are always watching."

Before Kakashi can retort, the only female on his team steps forward.

"I'm Nohara Rin," she says, voice gentle yet firm. "May I ask what you were doing just then? Is there a problem?"

"Hello, Rin-san," Sakura replies with just as much politeness. "I am Uchiha Sakura, and these two are my teammates, Yamanaka Mika and Inuzuka Kaito—"

"That still does not answer the question," Kakashi buts in. "Why were you spying on us?"

"Some harmless little observation is more like it, Kakashi," Sakura says, ignoring Kaito who very soundly drops his face into his hands. "Minato's students are often praised in the village, after all."

"We are?" Obito perks up. "Even me?"

Sakura crinkles her eyes at him. "Especially you, Obito-san. In fact, you have been the topic of several discussions between Namikaze-san and tou-san, and tou-san is thankful that we have such a member like you in our clan. I myself have spotted you helping out with elderly people around the village, and every time, I always find myself amazed with the depth of your kindness and hospitality—"

"Stop trying to change the subject," Kakashi snaps. "Why were you spying on us?"

"B-Because of the Chūnin Exams!" Mika blurts out, unable to deal with the rising tension. "Team Nara has to fight against Team Minato, and the first team to retrieve three scrolls from the other team will win."

"That's why we've been spy—observing you," Kaito quickly explains. "We just wanted to see how you guys fight."

"And we did," Sakura says. "Your performances were more than satisfactory. We are honored to have been chosen to be your opponents." Rather abruptly, she then turns around and starts heading out of the training grounds without another word being said.

Mika bows lightly before quickly walking after her teammate.

"Ja!" Kaito calls with a wave of his hand, following them, and his ninken bares his teeth in a cross between a snarl and a grin before trotting after his partner.

The members of Team Minato's eyes trail after them until the younger trio of children turn over a corner, vanishing from their view.

"Well," Rin remarks in a tone of contemplation, turning back to face her teammates with a shrug of her shoulders, "that was certainly interesting. I think they're rather cute, honestly."

"Cute?" Obito laughs unconvincingly. "Yeah, sure."

"What do you think, Kakashi-kun?" Rin asks her other male teammate.

The boy in question shifts his glower from the distance to her, and she twitches at the intensity of his gaze.

"Minato-sensei will be here soon," Kakashi finally says. "We should resume our training. Obito, Rin, come at me again—and this time, I won't be holding back as much." With that being said, he then whips around to turn his back on the boulder, walking towards their training grounds in stiff strides.

His two teammates share an exasperated glance before following after him.

[ _martyr_ ]

"Guess what a little birdie told me just yesterday," Shikaku says, moving his silver general one square forward on the shōgi board.

"Could the little birdie possibly have yellow feathers and eyes as blue as the sky?" Sakura replies just as lightly as she shifts her pawn out of harm's way. "And could it just possibly be the swiftest little birdie ever?"

Shikaku chuckles. "Clever girl."

"So what did Namikaze-san say?" Mika asks. She's seated beside Sakura with Ryū curled in her lap, and the ninken lets out little snuffles of satisfaction as her able fingers combs through his thick fur. Kaito is sprawled on his stomach, his chin propped atop his hands with his elbows planted on the tatami-layered floor as he watches the shōgi match.

"He said to me that his students told him that they found a trio of little genin spying on them from behind a boulder," Shikaku answers. "A boulder? Really? I thought I taught you better."

The four of them share conspiratorial smirks.

"That Hatake boy was scary, I tell you!" Kaito exclaims a moment after. "He was all like, ' _I don't care about who you are. What do you want?'_ And then Sakura had the _gall_ to talk back to him."

"Oh?" Shikaku raises an inquisitive eyebrow, promoting his lance in the same instance. "And what did you say to that, little Uchiha-hime?"

"He accused us of spying on him and his team," Sakura replies, scowling at his nickname for her. "I told him all we were doing was just some harmless little observation."

Shikaku snorts. "I imagine Sakumo's brat wasn't very pleased at that?"

"Nope," Mika sighs. "Not at all."

"Troublesome," Shikaku murmurs.

"Kakashi…" Sakura trails off, shifting her rook to one side, "seems to be a complex person." And yet, still not as complex as the adult he'd grown up to become in her past.

"So was his father," Shikaku chuckles, but there is a detectable sadness under his tone. "Prodigies often are."

It'd been…jarring, seeing the young Kakashi with her own two eyes. She now understands what he'd meant when he'd once described himself as the 'Sasuke' of his team. In his youth, he's a very different person from the adult he'd grown up to be—but that doesn't mean she feels like the connection and love tethering her to him is any weaker. She'll just have to start from the fresh beginning to gain his trust and respect once more, and one should know that Haruno or Uchiha, Sakura will always be nothing short of persistent.

"When are we going to go to the training grounds and train?" Kaito groans, rolling onto his back. "This is, what, your fifth shōgi match? With Shikaku-sensei very predictably winning every one of them? Sakura, just accept that you're never going to win against the head of the Nara clan and let's head out to the training grounds and spar—"

"Cool head, agile mind—those are the traits I deem one of the most important in a shinobi. You are smart, Kaito, and there has never been a time where I doubted that fact," Shikaku says. "But, sometimes, you just don't use the brain biology has given you."

"I don't quite understand what you mean, sensei," Kaito tilts his head in a doggish manner.

"Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom," Shikaku says. "Mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power."

Kaito heaves a deep sigh at the usual complexity behind the man's words. "So have _you_ mastered yourself yet, huh?"

Shikaku doesn't respond at first, capturing Sakura's bishop in one go. Sakura frowns at her loss, leaning back on her zabuton to plan out her next moves.

"See," their teacher finally answers, "the problem with the world is that the intelligent ones are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are filled over the brim with confidence."

Kaito's right eye twitches violently, but before he can open his mouth to say anything—most likely to complain about the man's usual vague answers—another voice cuts in.

"Are you being mean to your students again, Shikaku?" Yoshino asks teasingly, walking out to the engawa with a bottle of beer held in one hand, balancing a tray of four cups in the other.

"Ah, Yoshino," Shikaku accepts the drink gratefully,and lands a peck on his wife's cheek when she bends down to set the tray on the low table. "I was getting dried and shriveled up from all the talking."

"Thanks!" Kaito chirps, sipping from his cup of water.

"Thank you, Yoshino-baa-chan," Mika says as she accepts her own cup, setting the other one on the ground. Ryū clambers off her legs to lap up the water thirstily.

"Making any process with the shōgi match, Sakura?" Yoshino sets the last cup beside Sakura. "Think you can beat this lazy sag of bones this time?"

"Thanks, Yoshino-baa-chan," Sakura replies, looking up to grant the woman one of her rare smiles. "As for your question, no. I can't find a way to break through his cast-iron defenses."

"Don't worry your pretty head over it," Yoshino says to her, swatting at the back of her husband's head casually. "His late father was the only one who could beat him at this game. You're one of the very few people who has lasted this long against him. The fact that you're a genin—prodigy or not—makes it even more impressive. And—"

"Checkmate," Shikaku says, toppling his opponent's king with a knock of his promoted pawn. "See? What is a king to a soldier when the king is not strong enough to defend himself? And, of course, what is a god to a soldier when the soldier has no faith?"

Sakura narrows her eyes at her defeated king. Out of all the countless shōgi matches she'd played with Shikamaru, she'd only win a total of eight matches against the genius shinobi. While she'd never had the chance to play against Shikaku in the past, Shikamaru had told her that he himself had never even _once_ won against his father.

"Yes," she murmurs to nobody in particular. "You're right."

[ _martyr_ ]

The brutal rays of the sun beating down at them feel particularly torturous, for they'd just finished one of the most challenging exercises Shikaku has ever handed out.

Kaito gulps down the last mouthfuls of his water bottle as Mika drags herself under the merciful shade of a nearby tree. Sakura is bent over at the waist, legs slightly shaking and spread out, roughened hands gripping scraped knees. Ryū's tongue lolls out of his maw as his flank rises and falls rapidly with heavy breaths. He's probably cursing his thick fur at this moment.

"I don't remember ever calling for a break," Shikaku says from his comfortable spot on a tree, his back propped against the study bark as he stretches himself across a thick branch. "Get up, all three of you."

"S-Says…" Kaito pants out, "the m-man…relaxing on a…tree."

"Oh?" Shikaku straightens, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Would you like me to join your exercises, then? Break out a few of my shadows, hmm?"

His students simultaneously blanche.

Gauging their expressions, Shikaku draws himself back into his earlier position once more.

"Alright, alright," he sighs. "Five minutes, and no more. After your break, we'll head to the outskirts of the village for the cliff climbing practice. There's only two days until the exams, after all. No time to waste."

[ _martyr_ ]

"How do these look?" Kaito asks his teammates, handing them his chosen set of kunai and shuriken.

"The shuriken are fine," Mika decides, turning the weapons over in her hands and inspecting them closely. "I think you should pick some other kunai, though. These hilts are too long. You'll have trouble throwing them with your shape of hands."

"Ah, I see what you mean."

"Sakura-chan," Mika addresses the younger girl. "Are you not going to buy a new set of clothing like me and Kaito-kun?" She lifts her shopping bag, and Sakura peers in to see what looks to be a light blue sleeveless hoodie, a mesh undershirt, a pair of shinobi sandals, and thin black leggings.

"Yeah!" Kaito nudges Sakura, lifting his own bag for her to see a dark blue windscreen jacket, a mesh undershirt, a pair of black shinobi pants, and a roll of bandages. "Senpai has good taste, right?"

"Nice," Sakura comments with a nod of approval. She looks down at her current clothing—a dark grey, wide-collared, slightly-oversized shirt with the uchiwa stitched on the back, a mesh undershirt under it, a pair of light grey, knee-length shinobi pants, standard shinobi shoes, and bandages wrapped around her two forearms.

"I think I'll get a pair of the same leggings as yours, Mika," Sakura decides, and then swiping a belt from another shelf, says, "This utility belt looks very useful." As for her Uchiha-styled shirt, she'll keep it for now. She's used to high or wide-collared shirts, for she's worn many of them back in her past. Not only that, she also quite likes how they seem to provide a sense of security with her neck covered—as useless as it may be in reality.

"I'm going to go look around if they have some stuff in here for ninken," Kaito tells them, before bounding away with Ryū on his heels.

 _The Shinobi Lifestyle_ is a store well-known for its high-quality shinobi weaponry and clothing, and if Sakura's not mistaken, one of the many popular shops that Tenten's family owns.

"Mika!" Kaito comes bounding back barely a moment later with a small object held in one hand. "This will go really well with your chosen hoodie."

"What is that?" the girl asks curiously.

"Just," Kaito twirls his finger in a circular motion, "turn around."

Sakura can't help but smile as she looks at the two of them. At the age of ten, both children have already entered puberty. They're currently in an awkward stage of growing up, for Mika is a good three inches taller than Kaito, and Sakura does not need any confirmation to know for herself that the small 'problem' has certainly aggravated the boy several times ever since he's started noticing the height difference.

"Here," Kaito says, stepping away, satisfied with his own work now that the dark blue hairband is tied in place, "Feels much better with your hair up like that, eh?"

Mika turns around slowly with her pale braid flipped over one shoulder, eyes strangely bright and cheeks flushed prettily; it is an expression that Sakura knows all too well. The movement causes a stray lock of hair to fall into her eyes, and Kaito reaches out and tucks it behind her ear. Mika seems to startle at the feel of his fingers bushing against her skin, jolting rather violently.

"T-Thank you!" Mika squeaks as she stumbles back, face beet red, eyes darting to Sakura in panic. But the younger girl only slides her eyes away with a faint smile as a queer ache of nostalgia wells up within her.

"You alright?" Kaito asks and reaches out to place a concerned hand to Mika's forehead before she can react. "You're still really flushed. Did I tie it too tightly? Nee-chan used to tell me that I did that sometimes—"

A quick glance from Sakura tells her that Mika is about three seconds from fainting like a certain Hyūga if she doesn't do something about it right this instant. Deciding to take pity on her, Sakura says to Kaito, "How do you know how to braid so well?"

Kaito lowers his hand slowly from Mika, and then answers without looking at any of them, "She…my sister used to always wear her hair in a braid. Sometimes when she got too lazy, I did it for her. I braid even better than my mother, you know!" He laughs at his last sentence, and Sakura's glad to hear that it doesn't sound too forced. Ryū rubs his flank against his partner's legs, nudging his head against Kaito's shins.

"Woah!" the boy exclaims abruptly, pointing towards a row of huge Fūma Shuriken, not-so-subtly changing the subject. "Look at these!

[ _martyr_ ]

On the last day before the second stage of the Chūnin Exams, the sun has already fully submerged below the horizon, and the lamps on the streets are flickering on one by one as the members of Team Nara leave their training grounds. They have to return to their respective homes for dinner anytime now—but there is still one last thing that needs to be accomplished.

The three of them lope around corner after corner until they manage to find a dark alley in a more deserted stretch of the village. Cautiously looking around, they then slink in and face each other in a tight triangle.

A small flame flickers to life in the middle of Sakura's palm, casting shadows across the planes of their faces and illuminating the narrow alleyway, before she takes a deep breath and says, "No one is allowed to die."

"No one—" Kaito starts, and then breaks off abruptly, looking at Sakura with incredulity. "Die? Surely you don't think they'll actually try to fatally harm us?"

"Accidents happen," Sakura says, before fixing him with a glower. "You're ruining the moment. Get on with it."

"No one is allowed to get maimed," he continues, still looking faintly perturbed.

"No one is allowed to get crippled," Mika finishes.

"Aren't the last two technically the same thing?" Sakura wonders aloud, frowning.

"Now _you're_ the one ruining the moment," Kaito accuses her, rolling his eyes.

"S-Sorry." Mika ducks her head, ears tipped with red. "I couldn't come up with anything better."

"It's fine," Sakura quickly says in reassurance. "Let's just...get this over with as soon as possible."

What folllows is the truly cringe-worthy part, the reason for their sheltered location of privacy. Exchanging solemn nods, the three of them reach out to link their pinkies into a knot, and then, in unison, chant the three sentences together. As soon as the last word is spoken, they shake on their pinkie-knot to seal the deal, before hurriedly dropping their hands and calmly walking out from the shadows and into the streets, expressionless and unruffled, just a trio of friends out for an afternoon stroll before dinner.

At their parting point, the three of them halt under the illumination of a nearby lamp, sharing a glance that speaks more than any words ever will.

"This is it." Kaito's grin is all teeth. "They won't know what's hit them."

They are ready.

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: As you can probably tell, this chapter's ending was inspired by _Shana the Short's_ [ _The Eyes Have It_ ]. It's an incredible fic so I highly recommend it to anyone interested!

So, a pretty dialogue-heavy chapter. And I apologize to the people who'd wanted to read the second stage of the Chūnin Exams in this chapter, but personally I felt like some more build-up was the right choice before delving straight into the excitement of the second stage. And, more importantly, I've been doing some extensive research, and there's been a lot of debating whether Kakashi is of the same age as Rin and Obito, or if he's actually three to five years younger than the two. Now, I've come to realize that although Kishimoto has weaved together this amazing story that is _Naruto_ , he isn't very good at developing logicality in his show. For one, if Kakashi had graduated from the Academy at age five and then became a chūnin at six, while Obito and Rin graduated from the Academy at age nine and were promoted to chūnin at eleven—then what the _hell_ was Kakashi doing before Team Minato took the bell test together? Perhaps, training privately under Minato? Then why would he need to join a genin team and take the bell test if he'd already become chūnin? Well, we don't know, for Kishimoto has never offered up any solid explanations. I'm more inclined to believe that he's younger than his teammates, but again, I can't be sure. We, as _Naruto_ fans, have noticed so many other plotholes it's almost embarrassing. I don't begrudge Kishimoto for it, though, because no story is flawless. But for reasons such as the ones stated above, things will have to be altered in _martyr_ -verse: Kakashi is the same age as Obito and Rin. There is a six-to-seven-year gap between Sakura and Team Minato. Obito and Rin have recently been promoted to chūnin, while Kakashi will soon become a jōnin.

And just throwing this one out here for anyone curious—the cliff climbing practice is to improve one's strength and discipline by climbing a high or steep cliff using one or two arms. Credits go to Narutopedia.

With all that being said—I'm now back in Taiwan for summer vacation! Hope you all are doing just as well!

Feedback is appreciated!


	12. xi: chūnin exams (part ii)

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

7/2/2017

Taoyuan County, Taiwan

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: Thank you for your patience, my wonderful readers! This chapter was pretty darn difficult to write, sheesh.

And, the issue between me and _monstersinmind_ has already been sorted out and dealt with amicably between the two of us. We both deeply apologize for the problems caused and sincerely thank the people who've continued to support us. We would really appreciate it if the harassment and negative comments about the situation are put to an end. The both of us are on friendly terms and even encourage our readers to check out each other's stories. We've left the issue behind us now, so we would appreciate it if you do, too. Thank you.

Also, _jamielmx_ did an adorable fanart of Yamanaka Mika on DeviantArt! Go check out my profile page for more info!

See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter xi.-**

 _chūnin exams (part ii.)_

* * *

"Anyone who imagines they can work alone winds up surrounded by nothing but rivals, without companions. The fact is, no one ascends alone." -Lance Armstrong

* * *

"Did you triple-check your weapons pouch?"

"Yes, tou-san."

"Are your bandages wrapped too tightly?"

"No, tou-san."

"Let me adjust your new utility belt again."

"But, tou-san, you've done that for at least three times already," Sakura sighs. "I appreciate your concern, but I really am all prepared and ready to go."

Wordlessly, Fugaku gives her a look, setting his cup of tea down on the table and beckoning her towards him with a flick of his hand. Sakura heaves another sigh and pads obediently to stand in front of him, lifting the hem of her shirt so he can readjust the newly-purchased utility belt.

"'All prepared and ready to go?'" Mikoto says as she enters the living room, a hairbrush and hairband held in her hands. "Don't make me laugh. Just because I let you get away with a nest for your hair like this on usual days doesn't mean I'm not going to do anything about it when you're competing in the Chūnin Exams today in front of the whole village."

"I'm used to it," Sakura replies with a small shrug.

"Does this feel okay?" Mikoto asks, nimble fingers already tying the hairband in place. "It's more of a half-up ponytail than an actual ponytail. This hairstyle keeps the most of your hair away from obscuring your vision and generally getting in the way, but also covering your neck the way I know you like it. And, of course, it's pretty."

"Prettiness is useless in this case, Mikoto," Fugaku quips from the side.

"Shush, Fugu-chan," Mikoto says without sparing a glance at her husband, placing her hands on her daughter's shoulder and turning her around to examine her from head to toe. "I want my daughter to look pretty when she pummels her opponents with style."

Her husband only sighs into his cup of tea.

"Saku-nee!" Itachi waddles into the living room, waving his short arms over his head to get her to pick him up. She complies to his wishes, hoisting him up in her arms.

"Will you be watching me fight?" she asks him. "Will you be wishing your big sister good luck?"

"Saku-nee doesn't need luck," Itachi says with all the confidence of a two-year-old. "Saku-nee can defeat everyone because she's the best!"

"If you say so," Sakura chuckles. _'If only it were that easy.'_

"You should get going now. We will be watching in the stands along with the whole clan," Mikoto says, lifting Itachi from her arms. "Fight well."

"I'll make you all proud," Sakura vows.

Her father's hand lands down on her head.

"We already are."

[ _martyr_ ]

"Place these scrolls inside your weapons pouch," Kosuke says, handing the items to the participants gathered on the arena. "Once your scroll has been taken away, you are immediately disqualified. You cannot return to the fight even if you are still capable of going on. To guard your scrolls, any tactic is allowed except for one very crucial rule that must not be broken: Murder. Whatever you do, you cannot use any lethal techniques against your opponents with the intent to kill. Control and discipline—never forget that. Am I understood?"

"Hai!" the gathered genin answer in one collective voice.

"The order is Team A, Team B, and lastly, Team Nara. Team A, stay down here in the arena. Team B and Team Nara, go wait up there in the balcony until your turn comes."

As Sakura walks up the stairs with her teammates by her side, she looks over at the crowd, at the section in the stands reserved for the Uchiha clan members only, and just happens to catch Itachi's eye. At her glance, her little brother throws his hands up the air with a wide grin from sheer excitement, nearly punching Mikoto in the face as she holds him on her lap. Sakura returns his grin with a rare one of her own, raising her fist in reply.

"Hey, kaa-chan, tou-chan, Tsume-obaa!" Kaito hollers from beside her, waving his arms over his head wildly. Now the size of a miniature horse, Ryū scrambles up onto Kaito's back, letting out a volley of frenzied barks even as his partner nearly keels over under his weight. Mika, for her part, ducks her head in embarrassment at her teammate's boisterous actions. Eventually, when they make it up to the balcony, the first match is already about to start soon.

Team A manages to retrieve one scroll from the chūnin team, before their opponents overpower them in the matter of a few minutes, gaining all three of their scrolls and ending the match. Although they had lost rather quickly, the girl of the genin team might have a high chance of being promoted to chūnin, as she'd displayed admirable skill in getting the chūnin team's scroll by use of a high-ranking earth jutsu.

Team B appears to be more skilled in terms of both prowess and teamwork than Team A, for they are able to retrieve two scrolls with cleverly coordinated taijutsu and manipulative genjutsu before their three scrolls are taken by the chūnin team.

Before they know it, it's already Team Nara's turn to go down to the arena and fight, and the only time Sakura has heard the Inuzuka clan shake up such a clamor was when they were howling for blood in the Fifth Shinobi World War.

"We're up!" Kaito flings his arms around his female teammates, dragging them shoulder-to-shoulder down the stairs.

Sakura tilts her head to whisper to her team, "We fight as one, but if they manage to separate us, I'll go against Kakashi, Mika will fight Obito, and Kaito and Ryū will go for Rin."

Her teammates nod in reply, eyes on the other team. Mika's expression is somewhere in-between nervous and determined, Kaito's excitement is practically fizzing in the air with its sheer élan, Ryū's tail thumping enthusiastically against the ground in an erratic beat, and Sakura, for her part…

' _I'm ready.'_

"Fight with your all, but fight by the rules," Kosuke says. "Is everything clear?"

"Hai!" answers the six of them in one collective voice.

"You may begin," Kosuke says, slashing his hand through the air before retreating.

[ _martyr_ ]

For a long, stretched-out moment, not one single person moves. The members of Team Minato and Team Nara stare each other down as the audience sit frozen on the edge of their seats. In times of war, morale in each village must be kept as high as possible for the benefit of every shinobi and civilian, and nothing beats watching Konoha's next generation of young and talented ninja to help maintain hope and faith.

Abruptly, Sakura, Kaito, and Ryū burst into action. She had sensed Obito's chakra building up for a huge release, and does not doubt that Kaito and Ryū had smelled the incoming explosion before it takes place with a roaring whoosh of raw, burning chakra.

The three of them merely dash around the thick stream of fire, not faltering in their advance. Meanwhile, Mika follows after them headfirst, hands flying through seals and cocking her head forward before her tower of water crashes against Obito's flames, extinguishing the searing heat but causing thick steam to rapidly cloud up the arena grounds until it obscures their vision.

' _Guys, up there!'_ Mika's voice trills in her mind just as the ground rumbles beneath their feet. _'Watch out!'_

Living up to his much vaunted genius, Kakashi has swiftly summoned long columns of earth to form as steps to keep himself above the blinding steam. With her Sharingan activated and having cloaked her two eyes with a paper-thin layer of chakra as further reinforcement, Sakura spots his dark figure flitting back and forth through the air before she has to leap back to avoid a spray of thrown kunai, courtesy of her former mentor.

Drawing chakra into her lungs, she expels it with a silent roar of _'Fūton: Daitoppa!'_ The destructive wind from the squall clears away all the steam in one instant, simultaneously toppling Kakashi's earth columns. She raises her kunai when he pounces down upon her with his tantō drawn, the clang of metal shrill in the air as he shoves her backwards, shoes skidding across the ground. Sakura flips backwards and lashes out with her legs, but Kakashi merely tilts his head to avoid her feet kicking for his chin. It's not the first time she curses her short limbs.

' _Formation D!'_ Mika voices in her head. _'Gather to me, the three of you!'_

Streaking back to her female teammate, Sakura catches sight of Kaito and Ryū leaping over Rin and heading towards the Yamanaka in a similar fashion. Obito, who has been exchanging blows with Mika, pulls away and flickers back towards Rin and Kakashi when he sees the three of them approaching.

" _Gamayu Endan!"_

" _Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"_

" _Jinjū Konbi Henge: Sōtōrō! Garōga!"_

A blazing fireball erupts from Sakura's mouth that is augmented by Mika's torrential stream of thick oil as Kaito and Ryū—having fused into a two-headed wolf—spin in a violent assault straight towards Team Minato. The other two members of Team Nara swiftly follow after the myriad of flames, fur, teeth, and claw, never faltering in their pace.

Kakashi slips underneath the ground to shield himself, wading his way through the dark earth towards his opponents. Meanwhile, Rin and Obito manage to throw themselves out of the destructive path of the fireball in time, but very nearly almost lose a limb or two from trying to substitute themselves away from the snapping jaws of a two-headed beast.

Just as Kakashi is about to burst upwards from the ground and make a grab for the Yamanaka _— 'the most vulnerable, the weakest link, take her out first'_ —his world shatters apart around him. He can only stare with bulging eyes and his heart in his throat as a small foot decimates the entire field of the arena, forcing him to leap for more stable ground lest he wants to be crushed to a pulp. From his perch atop a jagged boulder, he spots Rin ducking away from a clawed swipe from the fused beast that is the Inuzuka and his ninken, and Obito exchanging blows with the Yamanaka.

' _Useless,'_ he thinks in annoyance as he watches his teammates exchange meaningless blows back and forth with the other team, making a derisive noise in the back of his throat. _'Have they never heard of tactics?'_

He jumps away from Sakura who flings herself at him.

' _She's strong,'_ he admits to himself silently, thinking of how she had stomped the ground asunder with one single stamp of her foot. He steps to one side, knocking away her arm with his own. _'Not to mention, dangerously fast.'_

With that thought, he raises an extra-thick earth dome over Sakura and races towards Obito, cursing in displeasure when he hears his earth jutsu shatter and crumble down not a second later, footsteps pounding after him. Attempting to deter her again, he blasts a volley of wire-laced kunai and shurikens over his shoulder without looking backwards.

"Keep the Uchiha busy for a while," he spits out when he reaches his Obito, grabbing him by the shoulder and swinging him around, ignoring the look of horror that his teammate shoots him. "I'll be back before you know it."

Obito has no other choice but to meet Sakura head-on as Kakashi _shunshins_ towards Mika, intent on following through with his plan.

' _Why did he switch with Obito-san?'_ Mika thinks in wariness and confusion, readying herself as Kakashi approaches her. _'He has to know that Obito-san doesn't really stand a chance against Sakura-chan. And I—I don't stand a chance against Kakashi-san at all.'_

Kakashi leaps into the air and sends a scissor kick towards Mika, who grabs his ankle and twists him away using his own momentum. However, Kakashi is able to bend into himself in midair and catch Mika in the head with a brutal axe-kick.

Painfully disorientated, Mika staggers forwards, dropping to her hands and knees with a hoarse cry. A hand fists itself in the back of her shirt, dragging her upright. Mika cranes her head around to meet eyes of dark grey and chilling ruthlessness, before something is shoved between her lips and into her mouth.

She chokes at the sheer bitterness, before she finds out that she can't draw another breath from her suddenly overwhelmingly tight throat. Something inside her closes up like a tiny window, and white spots dance behind her eyelids before darkness rushes up to swallow her whole.

[ _martyr_ ]

"One brat down," Kakashi calls. "Two brats to go."

Somehow, just somehow, Sakura manages to catch his unmistakably clear voice pierce through the din of the melee, and she shoves Obito away and turns around just in time to see him let go of his hold around Mika, letting her topple bonelessly to the ground, facedown, where she doesn't move again. A pool of red rapidly expands below her chin, and there is a terrible, telltale way to how her limbs are so slackened and limp. With her Sharingan activated, she can see how Mika's chest is completely still, instead of rising and falling with every breath. But, despite all that—what really sends an icy chill snaking down her spine is the fact that Mika's chakra is completely static.

' _Calm, Sakura,'_ she reprimands herself viciously. _'Calm down and think. Think, dammit, think!'_

"You…" Kaito inhales sharply, pushing himself up to his hands and knees from where Rin had thrown him to the ground, half-scrambling and half-crawling towards the prone form of Mika. He rolls the girl onto her back, hands cupping around her face in fearful concern. "Mika? Mika, this isn't funny. We're in the middle of the Chūnin Exams. This isn't the time to play possum."

' _Possum,'_ Sakura starts at the word. _'Yes, that's it. Possum. I should've realized sooner.'_

"Sa-Sakura, she—" Kaito angles his face up to look at her, face ashen and teeth digging into his bottom lip with what must be enough force to draw blood. "Sakura, she's dead. _Mika's dead_."

His control over himself, previously strung tight by a tenuous thread, is completely snipped by one long and furious howl that bounces off the walls of the arena. Several onlookers in the stands have risen to their feet, and Sakura spots a few Yamanaka clan members conversing rapidly between themselves, blonde hair whipping about in their vehemence. Yamanaka Inoichi himself is standing before his clansmen, arms held out in a manner of placation. It is the last sight that Sakura manages to catch before she has to reach out and fist her hand in the back of Kaito's jacket to yank him back from lunging forward.

' _He wouldn't,'_ Sakura reassures herself. _'This Kakashi isn't the Kakashi in my timeline, but he is still the Kakashi I know. He may be rude and mean and full of shit, but he is not cruel or ruthless. He wouldn't have it in himself to do it.'_

"Let me go, Sakura!" Kaito roars, whipping back to snarl in her face. "Look at what that bastard's done to her! H-He—Mika—fuck, _he killed her!_ "

It takes her a moment to absorb his enraged and grief-stricken expression. With his lips curled back wide enough to expose his elongated canines, his pupils slit like a feral beast's, his fingernails lengthening to hooked claws—the killing intent wafting off of her teammate is nearly enough to rival a certain jinchūriki's when he'd been clocked in red, malevolent chakra.

"It's just like what Shikaku-sensei said to you barely a week ago," Sakura replies calmly. "You are smart, Kaito, but sometimes you just don't use the brain biology has given you."

"The _fuck_ do you mean?" Kaito struggles in her grip with even more effort than before. "How can you be so calm when Mika's lying d- _dead_ on the floor—"

"Be quiet and listen to me," Sakura cuts him off. "Once ingested, the possum pill will send the victim into a death-like state. The victim's chakra will be suppressed and diminished to a near-imperceptible level, mimicking a corpse." She turns to his ninken who is nudging their third teammate's cheek with his snout, letting out little whines as if trying to wake her up from a deep sleep. "If you still don't believe me, take a look at Ryū. Tell your idiot partner, Ryū."

Kaito goes lax in her grip.

"You're sure?" he whispers, eyes rounded with anxious hope. "You're not saying this just to comfort me?"

"Do I seem like that sort of a person to you?" Sakura scowls at him. "We've bled and sweat together for more than one year already. You know better than to assume that of me."

Across the arena, Kakashi meets her eyes with a cold calmness. Flanking him, Obito and Rin are crouched on the ground, hands tensing around their weapons as they wait for a retaliation.

' _Brilliant idea,'_ Sakura thinks silently to herself, _'but also terrible. You just don't know the meaning of_ too far _, do you, Kakashi?'_

Turning back to Kaito, she says, "I have the cure." Her hand delves under her shirt and flips open one of the many tiny pockets of her utility belt, closing around a metal container in the shape of a cylinder. "This is another test. They want to see how genin like us will react under drastic pressure, but they won't be waiting forever until you get a grip over yourself. What they don't know is that genin can be masters or practitioners of herbs and poisons, too. The possum pill is something only jōnin are informed of, but I've done my research."

"How do you have the cure?" Kaito gapes at her. "Did you know this would happen? What—"

"Shinobi must always arrive to the battlefield fully prepared," she says, pressing a blue-colored pill into his hands before stowing the container back into the pocket. "When I go on to engage Team Minato as a distraction, you will feed her the cure."

"You're gonna take the three of them all at once? Are you insane?"

"Maybe," she replies offhandedly, attention already drawn to their three opponents who have started to make their way slowly towards them. "They're closing in. There's no time to waste. It should take Mika around twenty minutes to regain consciousness, but it doesn't matter, for she has already been disqualified from the match. As soon as you feed her the cure, you and Ryū will come up to aid me. Target Obito first, and I shall deal with the other two. I refuse to finish this without you, so _hurry_."

Without further ado, Sakura breaks off into a sprint towards her opponents. Mirroring her actions, the three of them descend upon her, feet rapidly pounding the earth as they increase their speed by a notch. A dizzying surge of adrenaline shoots through her system, and Sakura revels in it. It's been a long time since she's gone against worthy opponents while knowing that she can rummage around her full arsenal and let go without any acute fear of fatally harming them.

In this timeline, in this body, will she be able to match Kakashi's prowess in battle? Will she be able to _outmatch_ him, no less?

' _Only one way to find out.'_

Dropping down and rolling forward to avoid Obito's searing column of flames, she immediately leaps upwards to face Rin who bursts through the midst of the fire jutsu, wires bursting out from behind her to lash out at Sakura like carnivorous vines.

Sakura flits through the wires, occasionally having to resort to using her kunai to snip away several strands that get too close.

"Taking three chūnin at once?" Kakashi scoffs as he unsheathes his tantō. "You must be even more arrogant than I'd thought."

"Do not mistake confidence for arrogance, Kakashi," she replies, before blowing forth a great gust of whooshing flames.

Kakashi adjusts faster than she anticipates, materializing by her side and swinging a hand in a vicious chop towards her stomach. Sakura sucks in a large breath, enlarging the gap between his hand and her stomach just enough to avoid what would have been a painful connection.

Sakura shifts to the balls of her feet as a blur of black and pastel pink flashes towards her, hands clenching and eyes sharpening—instead, Rin whizzes past her, using skillful footwork to turn around and skid to a strategized halt.

Meanwhile, Kakashi lunges headfirst towards her. Sakura digs her heels into the ground to parry Kakashi's strike of his tantō with two kunai held in a cross before her, before dodging to the left just in time for Rin's palm to brush over her shoulder. Using Rin's momentum to her own advantage, Sakura throws one kunai to deflect Obito's, before snapping her empty hand up to wrap around Rin's arm, throwing her over her shoulder to crash painfully on her back to the ground.

Years of bloodshed catches up to her, and she falls into the movements rhythmically, trusting her hands, feet, and body to tell her how, when, and where to strike. Her mind may be old, but her body is young, and as she takes a firm hold on Obito's shoulders when he makes a grab at her and swings him away to crash into Rin and sending the both of them tumbling away—

 _It feels damn good._

She has just enough time to see Kaito barrel into Obito when the latter tries to rejoin the fight, sending the two of them rolling away in a tangle of struggling limbs, before Kakashi makes a jab at her ribs with his tantō, forcing her to twist away. Apparently deciding that Obito can handle his opponent on his own, Rin streaks back to help Kakashi—only for a blur of fur and claw and teeth to intercept her, clamping his jaws around her leg until she trips.

Juking to the left with feline grace, Kakashi then spins on his heel and slashes at his opponent's face. Surprised at his incredible speed because it's been so, so long she's fought a worthy opponent—in this body, not to mention—Sakura is just barely fast enough to hold up her kunai in a rigid front guard to avoid being permanently mutilated. Kakashi's tantō slides off and makes a jab at her shoulder, but yet again, Sakura reacts just in time and catches the sharp edge with the hilt of her kunai—a feat only skilled swordsmen can achieve. She ducks away from Rin's punch—who has apparently succeeded in shaking off Ryū—and lashes out with one leg.

' _Sorry, Rin, but I can't afford to have you distract me from Kakashi.'_

The chakra-induced kick finds its way into Rin's abdomen, once again propelling her away from the fight with alarming speed. Sakura has no time to enjoy the small victory, though, for it takes Kakashi only a millisecond to get under her guard and punch her in the jaw with enough force to send her staggering. She barely raises a kunai to block the downward strike of his tantō in time.

"Don't you think your little stunt was a bit over-the-top, Kakashi?" Sakura asks under the clash of her kunai and his tantō, arms slightly trembling under the weight of his persistence.

"Not at all," Kakashi replies smoothly, before thrusting his tantō with a sudden burst of strength, pivoting on one foot and lashing out with the other one at her right shin, effectively kicking her feet out from under her and making her tumble to the ground. "On the battlefield, my little stunt you speak of is nothing. The enemy is well-trained, well-equipped, and battle-hardened. They will fight savagely. They will resort to any tactics in order to win. You only got a small taste of what is yet to come."

' _He may not be as strong or fast as he will become someday, but that does not mean he is a shinobi to be underestimated,'_ Sakura berates herself, rolling away as his sword stabs into the spot where her face has just been barely a second before. _'After all, he is the esteemed prodigy of his generation, son of the White Fang who just so happened to be of the same caliber as the Sannin. I, too, must resort to nastier tactics, it seems.'_

Rin streaks forward to take Kakashi's place, hands aglow with blue chakra. In dance-like steps, she lashes out with those glowing hands, leaving glistening residue in the air like tiny blue fireflies with the speed of her movements. Again and again, Sakura maneuvers around her strikes in a graceful dance, noting the frustration that starts to blaze in Rin's eyes.

' _So, she can perform the chakra scalpels technique, too,'_ Sakura thinks, twisting out of the way to avoid another swift jab. _'Had she survived in my original timeline, she would've been incredible. She was the one who'd implanted Obito's Sharingan into Kakashi's damaged eye socket, after all.'_

Her train of thought is interrupted by a shout of outrage.

"Let him go! Let him—wait, no! _No!_ _Stop…!_ "

' _Kaito. Ryū.'_

Deciding she really should stop playing around, Sakura ducks under Rin's arm and dashes forward with a startling increase in her speed, shooting out with one outstretched hand to grip her opponent's nape, yanking her forward and delivering a deft chop to the back of her neck with her other hand.

' _Thank Kami you're not too tall,'_ she says to the unconscious Rin silently, squatting down to retrieve the girl's scroll. However, her other opponent is still very much in the shape to continue on with the fight, having her jump away to avoid the sweep of his leg.

"You're not going anywhere," Kakashi says, stepping forward and cutting off her path to Kaito and Ryū. "Your fight is with me—"

"Maybe later, Kakashi," Sakura replies, stowing the small scroll into her weapons pouch securely. "My teammates call for my aid."

"Foolish of you to think that I will allow you to go answer their call—"

He is cut off by a cloud of smoke that erupts between the two of them. Kakashi instantly leaps back, wary of what jutsu his opponent will attack with. When the heel of a foot fills up his vision as it closes in on his face, he sheathes his tantō and wraps both of his hands around the ankle in one smooth motion, using Sakura's momentum to swing her away from him.

However, he does not see the other clone drop down from the sky and deliver a vicious axe-kick that would've straight-out knocked any lesser ninja unconscious. Instead, seeing as how Kakashi is the esteemed prodigy of his generation, he merely drops to the ground and rolls at the impact, the back of his head pounding with agony.

' _Kage Bunshin?'_ Kakashi can't help but freeze in shock. _'She shouldn't have enough chakra to pop out even one of them.'_

A second later, a hard heel shoves itself mercilessly into his solar plexus, propelling him backwards with stunning strength until he crashes against the wall of the arena. He rolls to his feet just as swiftly, flipping backwards to avoid another strike that would've surely incapacitated him for good.

Up in the stands, he can hear the audience bellowing and hooting at the top of their lungs, losing their heads over how the Uchiha prodigy had managed to land multiple hits on the Hatake prodigy. With shadow clones, even.

' _What a nuisance,'_ Kakashi thinks silently, ducking down from a blow and returning it with his own. _'Even if they are solid, they are still nothing more than clones. I need to get rid of them and go help the dobe. There's no way he can handle her on his own.'_

[ _martyr_ ]

She hopes what she is about to do won't be too out-of-the-line. People like Danzō, Fugaku, Orochimaru, and Neji may approve, but she knows many others who would be downright disappointed with her for resorting to such nasty tactics.

She'd been a split-second too late in going to Kaito and Ryū's aid. The chilly-scented stink bomb that Obito had thrown at the two of them had instantly knocked them clean out. The noses that the Inuzuka and their ninken were so proud of had backfired on them, heightening the scented attack to an unbearable level until their olfactory senses went haywire and shut down.

The ninken is a mess, a hind leg broken as a result of Obito trying to bait Kaito by going for his obviously more vulnerable canine partner. That particular move had surprised Sakura quite a bit. It seems, just like Ryū, Obito has more bite to his bark than it had appeared so. The only thing she'd managed to do was _shunshinning_ behind Obito and slamming her heel against his spine. Not hard enough to make him paraplegic, but enough to incapacitate. With two scrolls in her possession, and two of their own scrolls in the opposing team's—it will now be up to her and Kakashi to decide the final outcome of this match.

"Then," says Sakura slowly to herself, ignoring the way her stomach clenches, "so be it."

[ _martyr_ ]

Kakashi has just popped the last clone out of existence when Obito lands beside him. Sweeping his eyes across the arena, he sees Sakura on the other end crouched over the sprawled forms of her two teammates.

"I'm surprised you managed to get away from the clan bratling after defeating the Inuzuka and his ninken," Kakashi says, turning his gaze back on his own teammate, tone mildly impressed.

"What can I say?" Obito flashes him a tired yet triumphant grin, still panting hard. "I've improved. It's just like what Minato-sensei said: I'm a late bloomer, and I'm only going to get better from here on out."

"Not fast enough," Kakashi scoffs. "You'd be so much more useful if you had the Sharingan, dobe."

"And you'd be so much more useful if you were less of a bastard and more cooperative as a teammate, teme," Obito snaps, his earlier grin wiped away by a scowl, eyes narrowing into slits.

"I'll show you cooperation," Kakashi fixes him with a haughty smirk, leaning close in a menacing manner. He doesn't need to be an Inuzuka to smell his impending victory. "You can stay here while I go deal with the Uchiha brat. I can defeat her on my own, so clearly, there's no need for you to be here anymore. Just watch."

It is in that moment when Kakashi detects something very, very wrong. With so less distance between him and Obito, he has a close-up view of the Uchiha's eyes, and there's something very, _very_ wrong with those eyes

' _Too sharp, too intelligent, too ancient—'_ he takes in a sharp intake of breath through his nose. _'Those are not the eyes I know, imposter.'_

"Actually," he says aloud, fingers curling around his tantō, "you are still very much needed, Obito. Why don't you hand me your scroll for safekeeping?"

"I'd rather not. I believe it would be much safer here with me—"

Across the arena, the clone poofs into nothingness, the _henged_ Obito melting away to reveal the real Sakura as she catches Kakashi's tantō on the edge of her kunai when he abruptly brings it down towards her shoulder in a forceful strike.

"Funny how you thought you could fool me," he says over the clash of blades. "I do wonder, though, how you managed to _henge_ into my idiotic teammate so masterfully with every detail down to the point. I never would've noticed had I not been stuck with him for so long already."

Instead of answering him, Sakura replies with something that he would've never expected to hear from anyone.

"The White Fang was a true hero, Kakashi." With his bent knees lowering him to her height, Sakura's lips graze his ear with every word spoken. "Your father was a true hero."

Sakura feels his shoulders stiffen up predictably, his grip on his tantō tightening until his knuckles shine white.

"You _dare_ speak of a man you know nothing about?" Kakashi hisses, and the only warnings Sakura receive is how violently he starts to shake, and a flash of silver, before he engages her in a flurry of steel.

Just like her, Kakashi is the type of shinobi to be even more wary of once he is spurred on by his emotions. The people who aren't familiar with him would never suspect him to be such a person, but Sakura knows better. No one fights dirtier and more brutally than blood. Sakura knows that best. He seems swifter and stronger, as if his smoldering rage won't be quenched until he sees her bleed.

Activated by Kakashi's state of enragement, the first layer of her genjutsu settles onto him. Predictably, he shakes off the genjutsu with ease, continuing their dangerous dance of bukijutsu, yet does not detect the much more complexly weaved layer just underneath. The second layer sinks into his nervous system like syrup, and the tip of Kakashi's tantō suddenly hovers one inch from piercing into the throat of the one person he has sworn to never become.

Violently rattled, his tantō drops from his suddenly loosened fingers, and Kakashi backs away like a cornered cat.

"Kakashi," says the person, eyes crinkling with a warm smile. "I haven't seen you in so long, my darling boy."

In Sakura's memory, Hatake Sakumo has a kind face, silver hair that was always tied back into his usual ponytail, and dark, soulful eyes that were creased with laugh lines. Undoubtedly, nearing his death, the same eyes must have sunken in with grief, cheeks hollowing in with sorrow. Kakashi had once shown her a picture of his father, and Sakura had taken a long time to marvel over the striking similarities between the two of them. In the picture, Sakumo had still been a man both feared and respected for his talents in the ninja arts, hailed as a genius shinobi just like one his son would eventually become. _Had_ become. He had looked happy and at peace as he stood in the middle of one of Konoha's many streets, the sun setting behind him.

It is how Sakura remembers him even now, and so, it is with that very same picture that Sakura forges this fake person from.

"T-Tou-chan," the whisper sounds foreign to Kakashi's own ears. Too vulnerable, too heartfelt, too… _weak_. And yet, it is his own voice that speaks the two words that he had not believed he would ever use again.

"Come, Kakashi," Sakumo says, spreading his arms wide. Had Kakashi still been a little boy with a father whom he looked up to as a hero, he would've run into his embrace without any hesitation whatsoever. Instead, he forces his trembling hands to form a seal.

 _They say there is no person you can hate more than the one you used to love the most._

" _Kai_!" he shouts with all his might, summoning his chakra in one sharp spike. To his mortification, his voice is still tremulous, but fortunately, he succeeds in disrupting the genjutsu, his vision clearing and—there's a sharp tug on his weapons pouch, and he glances down just in time to see Sakura's hand slipping away, scroll gripped by thin yet strong fingers.

Kakashi may be the prodigy of his generation, but, for once, she has years and years of experience on him, and no one fights dirtier and more brutally than than blood. To Sakura, Kakashi is like her older brother, and that is enough for her to know the exact placement of his heart, where to strike, and how to make it hurt in the most agonizing way possible. That is enough for her to take his heart in her hands and _squeeze_.

" _You_ ," snarls Kakashi, shock and fear finally giving way to anger. To pure, unbridled fury. Although he himself knows that the match is over, although he has seen his scroll taken away with his two own eyes, although his team has already lost— _he wants to see her bleed_.

He comes at her with his right fist crackling with eye-piercing white lightning, birds chirping the song of death at the top of their lungs, nothing but a swirling mass of bloodthirst and wrath in his eyes—and Sakura slides smoothly under his outstretched hand, holding back a wince when a few sparks lash out at her exposed skin, and grabs him by the elbow, using his momentum to throw him to the ground behind her. Without missing a beat, Sakura pivots on her heel and her other foot comes gliding over his throat, forcing his chin back and exposing the pale column of his neck.

The whole arena is silent except for the final dying sparks of Kakashi's Chidori.

Sakura lifts her head to see the spectators practically hanging off the balcony in sheer anticipation, and a handful of people—Fugaku, Mikoto, Minato, Kushina, and Hiruzen himself—on their feet before she lowers her eyes to meet Kakashi's.

"Do you know where you made a mistake?" she asks.

He thrashes under her foot, choking out, "I had not expected your dirty trick—"

"Do you know where you made your mistake?" she asks again.

"You caught me by surprise—"

"I'll ask you one last time. Do you know where you made your mistake?"

"You had _no_ right— _no right at all_ —"

"Wrong, wrong, wrong," answers Sakura quietly, shaking her head side to side in disappoint, her eyes never leaving his. "For a shinobi hailed as the esteemed prodigy of his generation, I expected so much more from you."

Pinned beneath her foot, Kakashi continues struggle against her hold while trying his best to burn a hole in her with his smoldering glare, but does not try to say anything. It might have something do with her foot pressed over his throat, though.

"You made a mistake in thinking that you could have won this all by yourself. You believed that you had no need for your teammates. You thought yourself to be invincible," Sakura says, watching him struggle under her foot. "Well, let me tell you something, Kakashi: We are only as strong as the people and the things we fight for. The reason Tem Nara won today was because of everything that we stand for: Teamwork. We fight for each other, we inspire each other, we strengthen our spirits to become stronger and stronger everyday to be able to protect each other with the best of our abilities. But, you? You fight only for yourself, and that one fact makes you as squashable as a fly."

He spits out a glob of blood and phlegm, closing his eyes as if the mere sight of her looming over him disgusts him to an unbearable level. "You wouldn't understand anything."

"You're right. Maybe I don't. But, I do know something that will do you well to hear and take it to heart." Sakura presses her foot over his jugular, forcing his eyes to meet hers once again. "Holding resentment is like ingesting poison. It eats away at your insides like acid. You may think that your hatred will harm the person who harmed you, you may think that your anger will burn the person who hurt you, you may think that your weapons will cut the person who scarred you—but you're wrong." She watches him still completely under her foot. "Resentment, hatred, anger—they are like curved blades. What goes around, comes around. And, the person you still hold a grudge against? He's dead. And, you? You need to let go."

' _Just like how I did. Just like how I'm trying to.'_

Without another word, Sakura lifts her foot and turns to face Kosuke who had made his way down when he had seen the match nearing its end.

"Proctor-san?" she says pointedly, holding out the three scrolls, the symbols of their success and victory.

The elderly man nods, pressing a chakra-cloaked hand against his throat to amplify his voice for the whole arena to hear.

"Winner: Team Nara!"

The audience erupts into an uproar, and amongst the sea of the hollering crowd of thousands of people, Sakura locks eyes with her little brother. He looks a little stunned as he stares at her, eyes rounded with dazed elation and admiration. However, when she smiles at him, a grin instantly expands across his face as his own voice begins to mingle in with the rest of the cheering.

And that is enough. That is enough for her to feel like this victory was worth it. She's not proud, but she's happy, and she's lived long enough to know that happiness will always be more striking than pride.

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: This chapter was unbelievably difficult to write, and although I tried my best, I still feel like I messed up in a lot of places. Hope you still enjoyed the majority of this chapter, though!

While Rin isn't one of my favorite characters, I've always quite liked her. I honestly do believe that she would've been a powerful ninja had she survived. And I can totally see her getting along very well with Sakura in canon-verse. It's a shame, really.

The next chapter will definitely be uploaded in a shorter time than this one took. Also, I'm extremely grateful and completely blown out of my mind over how the last chapter received more than a hundred reviews! Thank y'all so much!

Feedback is appreciated!


	13. xii: another step closer

**martyr**

 _-lilacwrath-_

8/19/2017

Taoyuan County, Taiwan

Disclaimer: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto

A/N: Happy Chinese National Day and Mid-Autumn Holidays! Ah, I missed you guys! Thank y'all for your patience and feedback! I know I said this chapter would be posted in less time than the last one took, but boy oh boy did I not see that shitload of homework and other stuff heading my way. Hope the shameless fluff down below will compensate for my absence!

If anyone is curious: Sakura is currently four-years-old, Itachi is two-years-old, Kaito and Mika are ten-year-olds, and Team Minato are eleven-year-olds. Also, shout-out to the guest reviewer who pointed out my mistake in which I messed up kinjutsu with kenjutsu! I also took down the original cover because I've never really been satisfied with it, so I'm already working on the new cover.

And, the urls of fanarts for [ _martyr_ ] that I typed out in my profile page won't display anything, so I guess you'll have to do the researching on your own if you wanna see them! They're worth your time, promise!

See you at the bottom :)

* * *

 **-chapter xii.-**

 _another step closer_

* * *

"We were grown-ups, yet still children, and yet neither,

stuck in that space between infancy and adulthood, confusing and murky,

where some tried to grow up too fast, others too slow,

and the rest of us were wedged in the middle,

not sure which way to go."

-Linda Kage

* * *

The first thing Sakura does after Team Nara's victory is announced is to haul her unconscious teammates together into one big pile of tangled limbs.

Mika is the first to wake with blue eyes wide and a hand instinctively flying to her throat. In mind-speak, she confesses that the possum pill seems to have rendered her temporarily mute. Kaito is the next to come to consciousness, cradling the still-knocked-out Ryū to his chest protectively, murder-committing eyes roving over the arena for a certain shinobi. The ninken opens his eyes a few moments later, tossing and turning in his partner's arms, pawing at his nose with little whines of discomfort.

"We won," Sakura says to them, making sure just in case. She places a glowing hand on Ryū's broken hind leg, healing the damaged bone.

"Yes, I gathered as much," Kaito answers, finally turning back to her with eyes abruptly softened. "Had it been the other way around, my mother would already be down here with my throat in her teeth."

"She must be very proud of her son," Sakura says with a smile, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You did very well. You and Ryū, the both of you did very well."

 _'_ _Unlike me,'_ Mika unexpectedly blurts out in their minds, and Sakura is surprised to hear that her tone is brimming with frustration and displeasure. _'I got taken out so early on, I couldn't do anything, I couldn't get a single scroll—I was_ useless _and_ pathetic— _'_

"Don't ever let me hear you say something like that again."

A shadow looms over the four of them, and they crane their necks up to see Shikaku with his hands stuffed into the pants of his pockets in his usual posture.

 _'_ _How did you hear me?'_ Mika asks in confusion. _'I thought I was projecting my voice to Sakura and Kaito only.'_

"Apparently, it seems like your consciousness decided that I have a place in hearing your thoughts as well, and I'm naturally disappointed in what I've just heard," Shikaku says. "When Kakashi decided to switch opponents with Obito, you stood your place and faced him down 'til the end. I know of several chūnin who definitely would've ran away and looked for places to burrow into and hide if they were ever faced with such an opponent. But, you?"

"You stayed," answers Sakura firmly, "and you fought."

 _'_ _But I—'_

"You were the one who instigated Formation D, Mika," Kaito cuts her off. "You even carried out the Toad Oil Bullet perfectly this time, and we all know it's not an easy technique to begin with."

"He's right," Sakura supplies. "It's probably a good thing that we didn't actually hit them with our combined techniques. It was so powerful we could've accidently set them on fire and burned them to nothing more than ashes. Murdering your fellow shinobi is frowned upon, after all."

At her words, Team Nara blanches as one.

"That would not have been a pretty sight," Shikaku agrees. "Oh, by the way, are any of you in need of medical ninjutsu?"

Ryū lifts his healed hind leg in response, tongue lolling out of his jaw happily.

"Nah," Kaito confirms for the four of them. "We're good."

To Team Nara's collective alarm, Mika's eyes well up with sudden tears, redness tinging the ridges of her cheekbones, bottom lip giving in with a slight tremble.

"What's wrong?" Kaito says in instant panic. "Are you hurt badly? Do you have any injuries that need to be healed—?"

 _'_ _Thank—'_ she sniffles, clearing her throat. "Th-Thanks, you guys. I'm happy we won."

"Ah, that's the spirit." Kaito grins, clapping her lightly on the shoulder. "Speaking of you not retrieving a single scroll, I didn't succeed in that task either." His eyes swivels to Sakura. "You got all three scrolls by defeating all three members by yourself, yeah? That's pretty damn cool, you know."

There is no particular inflection in his his voice, but Sakura casts him a chary glance from beneath her eyelashes. Could he possibly have some lingering hard feelings over how she had lasted longer than he himself had managed?

"I dealt the final blow, yes," Sakura chooses her words carefully. "However, you're wrong in saying that I defeated them all by myself. They were already weakened from our earlier onslaught together as a team. I couldn't have done it without you guys, and—"

"I'm proud of you," he cuts her off, putting his hand on her shoulder and giving it a light squeeze just like how she had done to him earlier. "The Hatake prodigy got defeated by the four-year-old Uchiha prodigy! This is a victory worthy of making into the history books!"

"Don't you think you're celebrating too early?" Shikaku asks, his words quenching the sparks of their triumph like a douse of ice water. "Just because you've won this match doesn't mean the whole team will be promoted to chūnin. You haven't forgotten about that, eh?"

Kaito's grin slides off his face as Ryū stiffens in his lap, Mika once again drawing into herself the way she does every time she becomes self-conscious, and Sakura's mouth pinches into one uneasy line as she considers their situation. She has no doubt that she herself will be promoted to chūnin, but can she say the same for her other teammates?

Not a second later, she reprimands herself for thinking that thought. How can she doubt her teammates' capabilities when she's sweat and bled alongside them? When they've worked just as hard as she has?

 _'_ _We will be promoted together,'_ Sakura thinks with conviction. _'Nobody gets left behind.'_

"What are you looking so worried for?" Shikaku barks out with laughter, disrupting the tense atmosphere just as quickly as he had initiated it. "I understand why you have doubts, of course, but trust me when I say this: That really was one of the most well-fought matches I've ever had the honor of watching in the Chūnin Exams. You truly have made your family, your teacher, and your village proud."

"Gee, thanks for your touching words of encouragement and for scaring the shit out of us earlier, Shikaku-sensei," Kaito deadpans. "Speaking of family, mine is just approaching—"

Before he's even finished talking, both him and Ryū are bowled over by a bulky dog even larger than Akamaru had grown to become in the past. A brunette—brown hair wrapped up into a bristly bun and her chakra tinged with the unignorable wilderness of the Inuzuka—follows behind her ninken before stopping beside the other members of Team Nara.

"That was a great match, Sakura-chan, Mika-chan," Inuzuka Sunea, mother of Kaito and Tsume's younger sister, says to her son's teammates. "I especially enjoyed how you pummeled the Hatake boy. That was a very satisfying sight indeed."

"We did it together, Sunea-san," Sakura answers, moving to stand up as she feels Mika doing the same on her side.

"Rest, rest," Sunea chuckles. "No need to be so formal. You act as though we haven't ever eaten meals together at all and— _Shiromaru_ , that's _enough!_ Ryū and Kaito are still lil' pups! Don't be so rough!" She turns back to the two girls, fangs gleaming through her jagged grin. "Go find your families, I'm sure you have some celebrating long due, because I definitely have my own to attend to. Careful, though, it's a big crowd up there and I barely managed to make my way down here before all of them. Good thing I've got sharp claws and teeth."

"Oh! I see my parents and Inoichi-jii-san," Mika says to Sakura, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the blinding sun as Sunea literally pounces into the middle of the fray with a delighted howl. "See you later, alright, Sakura-chan?"

"Later." Sakura nods, turning to the Uchiha-reserved section in the audience to look for her own family.

Up in the stands, the huge crowd is dispersing as the family members of the Chūnin Exams' participants make their way down to the arena to meet their representative, with the rest of the civilians and ninja heading back towards their respective houses. Looking around the arena, Sakura catches one last glimpse of the stirring forms of Rin and Obito, before they are surrounded by their own family members and a squad of medics. And, lastly, Kakashi is…nowhere in sight.

 _'_ _Kami, what have I done?'_ Sakura thinks, the full weight of her previous actions and words finally catching up to her conscience. She forces her lips to bow up in a polite smile at the random people congratulating her as they walk past, even as she feels as though a hand with hooked nails has wormed itself into the pit of her stomach, clawing its way up towards her throat and clogging up her windpipe like a cluster of bitter thorns.

She had taunted Kakashi with the vision of the father he used to love and admire, whose corpse he found bleeding out on his floor, the man who had been snipped away from his son's life by taking out his own—

Sakura's hand shoots out and her fingers close around the alabaster pale wrist before it can make contact with her shoulder. Her eyes follow the arm up to its owner, before she lets her own arm drop back down to her side as if stung, even though his reptilian-like chakra signature had already revealed his identity long before she'd even seen his face.

 _'_ _It's been a long time…'_

"Orochimaru-sama of the Sannin," she greets the man aloud, satisfied that her voice isn't tremulous at all. "You surprised me."

"Funny," he replies, pupils slitted in pools of gold glistening with a baffling kind of amusement that has always made sense to himself only. "It was you who touched me first."

Standing stock-still, Uchiha prodigy and legendary Sannin scrutinize each other for a long moment. He looks sharper in his mid-thirties, the edges and planes of his face more cutting than ever. It's a little hard to take in the sight of the green Konoha vest on his person, and he wears it as if he hasn't orchestrated the last known rampage of Kumogakure's Gyūki just a few years ago, as if he hasn't already started illegally experimenting on his kidnapped subjects, as if he's not going to defect from his village two year or three from now—

 _He does not deserve that vest._

His presence makes her wary and on the edge, but she can no longer taste the metallic tang of terror on her tongue. She is not afraid of him. She hasn't been afraid of him in a long time. But, she would also be lying if she denies that she does not feel that one tiny pint of faint fear rippling over the sensitive scalp of her head, hairs rising along the back of her neck.

It is the kind of absent fear that had gripped her as a little girl in the past, stormy nights when her father had told her chilling tales of the crimson-cloaked Aka Manto and the river-dwelling Kappa, gruesome details chasing her down to the deceptive comfort underneath her warm blankets. It is the same absent fear that she still harbors towards Orochimaru, for he is like her very own childhood monster.

Fear never really goes away. What frightens people today is exactly the same sort of monster that frightened them yesterday. It's just a different monster. This fright complex is rooted in every individual, and Sakura is no exception.

"Few could have missed how you gave the Inuzuka boy the reverse-possum pill for the Yamanaka," Orochimaru finally says. "It makes me wonder why you bothered to waste those precious few seconds when the three of you—the puppy included—could've just proceeded to engage the other team and leave the Yamanaka to wake up on her own. Wouldn't that have been a better plan?"

"No, it wouldn't have been a better plan," Sakura answers in the same level voice. "If not given the cure in time, the effects of the possum pill will prove disastrous to the victim. Besides, if I had not given my teammate the cure then, she would still be knocked out as of now, unable to celebrate our victory with her team and family."

"Well, I myself would have adhered to my own methods," Orochimaru tilts his head in consideration, the amused lilt to his lips that she detests stretching, stretching. "But, I suppose yours do make sense as well. Furthermore, the way you defeated Hatake-kun was highly efficient," he continues. "For such a little midget like you…I have to admit, I'm impressed. It seems the juicy little rumors of your prodigious talent weren't exaggerated, after all."

She's not liking that sharpening glint in his eyes.

"I can only do my best," Sakura replies modestly. "I myself have heard great things about you, too, Orochimaru-sama."

Great, terrible, _terrible_ things.

"How old are you now, Uchiha-chan?" Orochimaru asks, eyeing her with a great interest that makes her skin crawl with invisible bugs.

 _'_ _I don't fear you,'_ a voice hisses inside her, baring its teeth in defiance. _'I don't fear you, filthy snake.'_

"Four," she answers.

"How peculiar," the man remarks. "You may have the appearance of one, but you neither act nor speak like a child your age."

She nearly scoffs aloud.

"I think you and I know better than anyone else that age does not define a person, ne, Orochimaru-sama?"

He lets out a sibilant chuckle at that, the sound rakish to her ears. Oh, how she longs to tear that grotesque tongue from his insolent mouth.

 _'_ _I cannot eliminate him yet,'_ Sakura reminds herself. _'He is still an asset of use. Not yet.'_

"With the intellect of a Nara's and the blood of an Uchiha's, I'm excited just imagining the full extent of your power when you grow older." The way Orochimaru's tongue darts out between his lips revolts her, but Sakura doesn't flinch. "I am scheduled to take a genin team under my wing in a few more months. Perhaps, one day, you would be able to afford enough time to spar with one of them?"

Sakura knows that she cannot refuse him. She knows that he knows it just as well as she does.

"Of course, Orochimaru-sama," Sakura replies. Even if the older girl will not be exactly like the woman Sakura had grown accustomed to, she is eager to interact with Anko after so, so long.

"Wonderful." His smile only stretches wider. "Next time, then."

Sakura is slightly surprised by his hasty retreat before she detects the strong and steady chakra of the Uchiha patriarch approaching.

"What did he say to you?" Fugaku asks her, eyes trained on Orochimaru's retreating form.

"He complimented my abilities," Sakura answers.

"Speaking of that…" Fugaku turns back to her, eyes softening once they land on his daughter. Sakura thinks, if he were any less stoic, he would be embracing her. "You fought well. Very well. It seems the training I put you under wasn't a waste of my time, after all."

"Of course not, tou-san," Sakura replies. "You were the one who helped me develop my Sharingan."

"Just because you've won this match does not mean you can slacken your training from now on," he says sternly. "I expect you to train even harder in the future. Understood?"

"Hai, tou-san."

"And, if that man seeks you out again, you will report back to me immediately. Am I understood?"

"Hai, tou-san." Sakura nods. "I will choose my words carefully around him. He is one of the Sannin, after all."

"I apologize for getting to you so late," Fugaku continues. "It would've been rude to cut through the crowd."

A rather vivid image of Inuzuka Sunea clearing a path in the crowd by whipping out her claws and baring her fangs swims up into Sakura's mind, and she smothers her laughter with a cough.

"No harm done," she reassures him. "Where is Itachi and kaa-san?"

"Itachi had to go to the bathroom," he answers. "They will be here shortly, and then we can go eat lunch together."

Sakura blinks in pleasant surprise. "You're eating with us, tou-san? Don't you have to go to work?"

"Together, the Uchiha are one unbeatable force, Sakura. I place enough trust in our brethren and sistren to believe that the Konoha Military Police Force will not collapse without my presence." Pride fuels his words, his tone alit with passion. "Never forget that the Uchiha are the strongest in the village, Sakura, and when the day that you become leader finally comes, you will become the strongest of us all."

Sakura raises her arms behind her head to retie the half-up ponytail, partly to get rid of the stray strands of sweat-laden hair off of her neck, and partly to hide the disdainful curl of her mouth. There he goes on again, praising the oh-so-mighty sovereignty of the Uchiha. Sakura has come to truly care for her new parents and acknowledge the prowess of the Sharingan-wielders—but one thing she cannot bear is how much the majority of her clansmen take fierce pride in their Uchiha blood.

 _'_ _All I'd done was ask him if he would be eating lunch with us. Honestly, this man…!'_

When she lowers her arms, hairband tied again in place, she finds Fugaku staring at her expectantly for a reply. However, luck seems to be on her side today— _and, well, isn't this new_ —because a voice cuts into their conversation.

"May I take a moment to grant your honorable daughter my words of congratulations?"

Even though she is grateful for his intervention, scorn sharpens her eyes before she blinks it away. The daimyō doesn't look much younger than he'd been in her timeline, beady little eyes sunken in his wrinkled face, body buried under the layers of his robe.

"Daimyō-dono." Fugaku inclines his head respectfully, stepping aside for the other man to shuffle closer his daughter.

"Child," he greets her, "you are extraordinarily talented, even for an Uchiha. Your fight impressed me a great deal."

"I could not have done it without my team," Sakura replies humbly.

"Ah, yes, of course," he says. "It is a great comfort to know that Hi no Kuni possesses such young, promising shinobi ready to aid their village and country when the inevitable need arises."

Yes, such young, promising shinobi—hundreds and thousands of them—were more than willing to throw away their lives to fight for their village and country, while their daimyō leisured upon his throne and flung around orders to battles he would never fight himself, playing mahjong and cards while such young, promising shinobi bled and rotted away on the battlefield.

Sakura is arrested by an alarmingly strong impulse to gouge out those beady little eyes, to wrap her blood-slicken fingers around that bony throat and _squeeze_ , to seize him by his hair and throw his headpiece to the ground and set it alit with a fireball or two—

"You were _so_ amazing, Sakura-chan!"

Violet eyes and flaming hair fills up Sakura's entire vision and disrupts her pleasantly violent vision when Kushina squats down in front of her, hands playfully pinching her baby-fat-laden cheeks.

"I know that you caught Kakashi-kun in a genjutsu of some sort because he literally froze for, like, five seconds. I just don't know what you showed him to have made him react like that." Her tone sobers at that, expression turning somber. "Minato's looking for him right now. Apparently, Kakashi-kun disappeared right after your team was announced victorious. Besides, using the Chidori as a lethal technique against a fellow shinobi in an exam is bound to have some consequences."

Even as the daimyō inches away, no doubt cowed by the Uzumaki's overwhelming boisterousness, Sakura feels her stomach drop to her toes. She really has crossed the line this time, hasn't she? After all, some of the most grievous wounds aren't visible to the naked eye. Instead, they mar the soul and run deeper than anything that bleeds.

"It was I who provoked him too far," she murmurs in reply. "It is only natural that he responded that way."

Kushina fixes her with an apprehensive look.

"I don't wanna know what was in that genjutsu because I have a feeling that I won't like what I find out," she says. "Still, he was warned. The rules were clear, and he still broke them."

"There will be consequences," a voice agrees. This time, it is Mikoto who speaks, walking up with Itachi held in her arms. "If you ask me, I daresay he deserves what is coming for him. However, Minato-kun has always been too kind."

"He is especially lenient on that boy," says Fugaku, nodding.

When Sakura opens her mouth to divert the subject as an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere, her little brother does it for her by raising his arms and leaning purposely out of their mother's arms as a silent request for his sister to hold him. Sakura complies just as eagerly, reaching out to pull him into her embrace, tucking his head under her chin and allowing him to draw his arms around her neck. Breathing out a contented sigh, Itachi tightens his arms around her neck to pull her head lower for a peck on her cheek.

"Are you hurt, Saku-nee?" he asks her.

"No," Sakura answers, "just a little tired. I apologize for dirtying you with the sweat and grime from my body, and—ah, is that blood? Sorry for that, too, otouto."

"I don't mind!" her little brother chirps, leaning into the finger that she uses to rub away the smear of blood away from the curve of his cheek, and Sakura's heart skips a beat.

It is astonishing the way how being genuinely loved by another gives one indescribable strength, a bone-deep warmth that blossoms from within the ridges of her ribs and expands to the tips of her fingers and toes. Overwhelmed with gratitude and affection, she presses her lips to his cheek.

It's mind-blowing how throughout her entire lifetime, Uchiha Itachi has begun from Sasuke's evil older brother to a great martyr who didn't deserve his fate, and now, finally, to a little brother that she'd never thought she would have. _'You are now mine to love and protect with the whole of my very being, otouto.'_

"You dote too much on him," Fugaku says, but not without one of his rare smiles that appear scarcely even to the privileged.

"It is an honor that comes with being an older sister," Sakura replies, returning the smile.

"Yo! Sakura!"

At the yell, she turns around to see the other members of Team Nara gathered together a few feet away, waving her over.

"I'll be back soon," Sakura promises, handing Itachi back to Mikoto. Her little brother pouts in disappointment at her sudden dismissal, before squeaking with laughter when she pokes him gently in the forehead. "I'll be back soon, otouto."

"Saku-nee is amazing, ne, kaa-san?" Itachi asks his mother, in a way that makes his words less than a question and more like a self-affirmed statement.

"Of course," the Uchiha matriarch answers without any hesitation as she watches her daughter run back to rejoin her team. "One day, she will lead us with pride and honor. I am certain of it."

Even without her Sharingan activated, Mikoto's well-trained eyes linger on Sakura's green-tinted bruises and raw scrapes and bloody cuts, dark hair tousled like a wind-wrecked bird nest, hairband coming loose and slipping down her half-up ponytail—and she thinks her daughter looks absolutely beautiful, sweaty and grimy and adorning her wounds like a pair of trusty wings.

"Well done, my little phoenix."

Fugaku's whisper is almost inaudible, but the wind carries his words to his wife's keen ears. She thinks it's amazing how taking care of their daughter and son has softened him from a battle-hardened clan leader to this caring father and husband, and she feels as though fireworks are going off in her chest as she follows his fond gaze to Team Nara. It should be impossible, harboring this much love and not bursting apart at the seams with the sheer intensity of it.

Yet here they are.

Together.

[ _martyr_ ]

"Kaa-chan has invited you guys to come over for lunch tomorrow," Kaito announces as soon as Sakura steps into range.

"Have fun, kids," Shikaku says.

"Huh? Don't think you're getting away with this one," Kaito replies with a cheeky grin, jabbing a finger at the man's Konoha vest. "You're also invited. It's an order."

"Free food?" Shikaku touches his chin with a finger in convincing reluctance, though his pleased smile gives him away. "Well, how can I decline such a gracious offer?"

"Dinner at my place tomorrow," Sakura declares in turn.

"Lunch at my house the day after tomorrow, then!" Mika pipes.

"It's decided!" Shikaku brings his hands together in a significant clap, before blinking in confusion at the expectant stares his students are fixating him with. "What are you looking at me that way for? Is Yoshino behind me?"

"You know, it's common courtesy for one to return the gesture," Kaito explains with purposeful slowness, as if talking to a newborn toddler. "Are you not going to invite us, too? Quid pro quo, yeah?"

"Aish, don't be so troublesome," Shikaku scoffs. "You've already eaten and slept over at my place for, like, ten times already, and more than half of them were solely because you couldn't bother with walking back to your own house after training. Let's relax somewhere we'll be less reminded of shinobi training. Somewhere both relaxing and exciting."

"But _I_ think the Nara compound is both relaxing and exciting," Kaito whines.

Shikaku raises an unimpressed brow. "You're saying this only because you want to eat Yoshino's chāhan as many times as possible, eh?"

Silence.

"W-What are you talking about? How could you accuse your prized student of such heinosity? Outrageous, I say! You truly wound me, sensei."

Without missing a beat, Shikaku snarks back a retort, but Sakura already isn't focusing on their conversation anymore, and as a result, does not catch his words. She's still caught up in the soft afterglow of their triumph, and it's funny, really, because defeating a trio of newly-minted chūnin shouldn't be making her this…happy. She certainly hadn't felt quite this elated when she'd been promoted to jōnin along with Shikamaru and Lee after the Fourth Shinobi World War.

However, when her focus swerves back to her team—Shikaku now has Kaito in a loose chokehold, rubbing his knuckles into the boy's head, while Mika is doubled up with laughter, only laughing harder when Kaito shoots her a look of mock betrayal—Sakura feels her lungs inflate with the onrush of affection and contentment.

Perhaps, it is the people that she is associated with that is inducing this special kind of joy in her being. Happiness is only real when shared, and she thinks, this must be what it feels like to be truly happy.

[ _martyr_ ]

"The stars are especially bright tonight, kaa-san," Sakura remarks, padding into the kitchen where her mother is washing and putting away the dishes.

"It's a beautiful night," Mikoto agrees with her daughter, raising her eyes to the window above the kitchen sink.

"So, I was thinking, why not make the best of it?" Sakura continues. "May I take Itachi out to the engawa to sleep tonight? I'll lay out the futon and wash them by myself in the morning."

Mikoto hums in thought, turning the tap off and drying her hands on her apron.

"I haven't been able to spend much time with Itachi these days because of training," Sakura explains. "I'd like to make him happy, kaa-san."

"Alright," Mikoto finally replies, leaning her hip against the counter. "Just make sure to sweep off the dust on the engawa first, please do refrain from catching a cold because autumn is just around the corner, don't forget to put on mosquito repellant, and make sure Itachi-chan doesn't roll off and hurt himself—"

"Thank you, kaa-san," Sakura says, smiling in amusement. "Don't worry, I will take care of everything."

Mikoto watches her daughter leave with gentle eyes, turning back to the sink and resuming her chores. She'd been so, so afraid when she'd seen Sakura fighting against Minato's students down in the arena. She can still remember the broken look in Kakashi's eyes after he'd freed himself from the genjutsu. Her daughter had displayed a sort of jagged viciousness that had and still has never been seen in their home.

 _'_ _What else do I not know about you, Sakura-chan?'_

From the direction of the living room, she hears her daughter's muffled voice, before her son's thrilled exclamation cuts through the night. At that, Mikoto can't help but smile, sighing through her nose.

It seems, although Sakura is a prodigy, she is, nevertheless, still a child. Mikoto couldn't be more relieved. Sometimes, often, she finds herself wishing that her children would just stay children forever, a little girl and littler boy for her to hold and protect.

She must never mention this to her husband, Fugaku the Uchiha head, whose many fervent ambitions include honing their daughter to become the perfect shinobi, a person fitting for the role of leading their legendary clan.

Her smile fades, scrubbing at the dish held in her hands with increasing force until her fingers turn raw.

[ _martyr_ ]

"Mind your step," Sakura calls out to her brother, hands smoothening over her futon.

"Sorry," Itachi giggles, turning away from the edge of the engawa before running over to her and plopping down on his futon. "I'm just excited. Want some help, Saku-nee?"

"It's alright, I'm nearly done," she replies, handing him his pillow. "Have you brushed your teeth yet?"

"Yep!"

"Why don't you settle down and get comfortable? I'm almost ready."

"Okay," he agrees happily, wriggling under his blanket and lying on his side, facing her.

When she's done with laying out her futon and blanket and pillow, Sakura turns off the lamp before settling down on her own futon, turning her gaze to the sky above.

"Saku-nee!" gasps Itachi suddenly in wonder, a white glisten of teeth in the darkness. "Look at the stars! I think they're forming shapes and—woah, is that a person?"

The skies in Konoha nights are never as black as smeared ink. Instead, they're more of the shade of dark indigo, alit by the village lights below, the mellow glow of the moon, and a great handful of gems scattered here and there. Unlike Sunagakure, where the hush of the night is like the silence of a graveyard, Konoha's citizens and creatures can be found awake anytime during both the day and night. The cicadas are especially loud tonight, and the fireflies are like tiny, fiery hitodama in the distant bushes.

"You've got sharp eyes, otouto," Sakura praises, before raising a hand to point upwards at the sky. "Did you know? Some insist that stars are people so well-loved, they are painted in constellations across the sky to live forever in the memories of those who hold them dear."

Itachi nestles closer to her until he's lying more on her futon than his, head resting on her shoulder, curling an arm around hers.

"I once knew of someone who loved another so much that a little piece of him died every day to keep him safe," Sakura murmurs absentmindedly.

"Like the story of how the sun died every night just to let the moon breathe?" Itachi asks.

"Oh?" Sakura smiles. "You remember."

"Of course," Itachi says, looking quite pleased with himself, although she isn't sure if it's because of his excellence retention or the fact that he's made her smile. "I remember everything you tell me."

Sakura nuzzles his hair, drawing him closer in their embrace. What has she ever done to deserve such a wonderful person like him?

"Goodnight, otouto," she says.

"Goodnight, aneki," he returns.

It's been a long time since her body has worked itself so vigorously, and her muscles are already starting to ache.

 _'_ _Thank Kami for the existence of medical ninjutsu,'_ she thinks to herself, already coaxing healing chakra into her limbs, heavy eyes closing with a inaudible yawn.

"I can't wait to become a shinobi," Itachi says abruptly, bringing her back into focus, blinking sleep away.

"You should treasure your childhood while you still can," she replies gently.

"Then, why don't you?" Itachi tentatively counters. "You're still a child, too."

It's amazing, truly, the amount of maturity he possesses at this age. _He_ is the real Uchiha genius, not her. _She_ is a fraud, a hollow shell of a dead woman inhabiting the body of a stranger with nothing left but memories and knowledge and power and pain to offer.

"I cannot afford such leisure," Sakura answers.

"Why?" he presses.

"Because," she tells him, "I have to grow strong enough to protect my precious people."

"You're strong already!" Itachi points out, arm tightening around hers.

Something inside her chest gives a twang at his innocence. If only he can stay this way forever.

"Not strong _enough_ ," she says, mood souring at the thoughts of the smirking face of Orochimaru, the crimson eyes of Uchiha Madara, the clack of the cane belonging to Shimura Danzō, the matching cloaks of Amegakure's trio of orphans, the moss green hair of Zetsu, the unearthly wrath of the Rabbit Goddess— _someday, she will have to meet them in battle._

"That's why I can't wait to become a shinobi," Itachi continues. "I want to protect our precious people with you, Saku-nee. I want to protect _you_."

Sakura doesn't reply, opting instead to turn on her side and tuck the top of his head under her chin, pulling him closer. No longer a child with a child's blind faith, she can only do her best to protect his. Taking care of her little brother has opened up spaces in her heart she didn't even know has existed.

After several long minutes, when Sakura thinks that her little brother is already asleep, and just when she is close to falling asleep herself—Itachi speaks up again.

"When I grow up," he murmurs sleepily, "I want to be just like Saku-nee."

His words pierce straight through her, her heart twisting at the thought of her baby brother with steely Sharingan eyes, clothes stained in gore, fully-fledged shinobi, cold-blooded, merciless, killer, murderer, _monster_ —

"Itachi," she says softly, sadly, "should just be Itachi."

When he doesn't reply, she looks over and sees him already asleep, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, chest rising with every breath.

She gives his hand a light squeeze before closing her own eyes and surrendering herself to darkness.

[ _martyr_ ]

"Kaa-chan! Another bowl!"

Sunea whacks away her son's hand, nearly knocking the bowl from his grip.

"You've had too much already!" she snaps, not without a sharp-toothed grin. "You wouldn't wish for your teammates and teacher to starve, would you, boy?"

"Um, it's alright, Sunea-san," Mika says hurriedly. "I'm almost full, anyways."

Sakura and Shikaku share a knowing smirk, preparing themselves for the drama about to unfold and be unleashed.

"You? Full?" Sunea almost shrieks in her horror, sending Ryū and Shiromaru cowering under the table. "What has Inotama and Haruka been feeding you? You're as skinny as a birdling! Come, poor child, give me your bowl—"

"Sunea-san, I really am almost full—"

"Almost isn't good enough! Hmm, maybe three more bowls will do?"

[ _martyr_ ]

"Mikoto-san, may I please have another one?"

Kami, the difference in Kaito's behavior is ridiculously laughable, and it takes all of her willpower to refrain from snorting aloud. Even Ryū is sitting prim and proper on the tatami-layered floor, trimmed claws and the ever-so-soft scent of shampoo showing that Kaito's cleaned up his ninken quite well before entering the house of the Uchiha main family.

"Of course, Kaito-kun," Sakura's mother replies, passing him the plate of onigiri. "Please feel free to eat as much as you want."

This is far from the first time that the other members of Team Nara have eaten at her house. They've just been incredibly lucky that Fugaku had been too busy to dine at home during the time they'd visited in the past. Tonight, though, her father has taken extra care to excuse himself from work to eat together with her team.

Sakura notes with amusement at the occasional nervous glances that Mika, Kaito, and even Ryū give Fugaku, but fortunately, he's quite immersed in his discussion with their teacher.

After dinner when they leave, Fugaku closes the door behind them before turning around with something close to approval in his charcoal eyes.

"Your teammates are well-mannered children, Sakura," he praises. "The Inuzuka boy, especially."

Sakura chokes down hysterical laughter and agrees with a nod.

[ _martyr_ ]

"Inotama-san, just what did you add in here to make it so delicious? It's the same type of noodles but there's something, _something_ , that tastes sorta different from what my mother cooks up, and I just can't put a finger on it even with my nose! Ryū, what do you think?"

 _'_ _Kaito,'_ Sakura thinks to herself, _'would make a good chef. He's certainly got enough interest for it.'_

"Ah, I'm glad you like my cooking," Mika's father chuckles. "Haruka usually prepares sukiyaki better than I do, so it's really a shame that she left this morning for her mission."

"You are a good cook, too, tou-san," Mika reassures him.

"Inotama-san," Kaito persists, "may I be allowed access to your secret recipe? Because, this," he gestures towards his bowl of steaming noodles, "is truly a work of art."

"Oh, it's not some secret recipe at all!" Inotama waves his hands rapidly in front of his face, and Sakura instantly knows from whom Mika inherited the ability to become so easily flustered. "It's just, well…"

"My ears are yours," Kaito promises, cupping his hands around said ears.

Shikaku sighs silently into his bowl at his male student's affection for drama.

"You know how people usually flock to the soy-sauce-selling stand that's managed by a young man?

"…I don't, actually, but please do continue."

"Well, Haruka and I get _our_ soy sauce from a stand that's situated more to the center of the market, managed by an elderly couple…"

[ _martyr_ ]

"I swear, Yoshino-baa-chan, when I pass on to the afterlife, your chāhan will be the only thing that I'd miss and crave," Kaito mumbles with his mouth half-full, grains of rice flying and scattering in every direction.

Shikaku and Sakura lean away in disgust, while Mika, bless the girl, hands the Inuzuka a tissue with a sigh of fond exasperation.

"Thanks, Mika."

Mika expertly dodges the spray of rice. "No problem, Kaito-kun."

"You're too sweet, Kaito," Yoshino laughs, settling down on her own zabuton and lifting her spoon.

"Pick up your pace just a little, yeah?" Shikaku says over the rim of his bowl. "The results of the Chūnin Exams are to be released later in the Hokage's office."

[ _martyr_ ]

As expected, all three members of Team Nara are promoted alongside all three members of Team B with the girl from Team A who specializes in earth jutsu.

"We're chūnin! Chūnin!" Kaito whoops and pumps a triumphant fist into the air as Ryū rears up on his hind legs, snapping his teeth with keen avidity. Mika latches onto Sakura, squeezing her arms around the younger girl until she has nearly lifted her off her feet, abandoning her usual shyness in her elation.

"Well done, Team Nara." Shikaku smiles broadly, eyes crinkling. "I'm proud of you all."

"I told you we could make it!" Kaito raises his fist, to which the older male bumps his against with equal fervor.

"I never said you couldn't, did I?" Shikaku grins roguishly. "Ah, I can't wait to rub this in Yoshino's face. She said my team wouldn't last a year under my tutelage—and look, chūnin already! But, despite herself, Yoshino will really be quite pleased once I break the news to her."

Their team's celebration is interrupted by three green vests that the Sandaime thrusts out to them.

"Well done," he says with pride, but Sakura detects the undercurrent of sorrow. He is sending them off on the path towards war, and he knows it.

As Sakura reaches out to receive the vest, she lets out the breath that she didn't know she has been holding, feeling a heavy weight seep into her bones. It is not the weight of the vest that she feels, but the weight of a responsibility that has increased tenfold, the urgent need to perform better from now on, the duty that she owes to the world.

 _'_ _Another step closer.'_

And yet, still such a long, long way to go.

* * *

 _-to be continued-_

* * *

A/N: The name 'Sunea' means 'snare' in Japanese, and 'Shiromaru' means 'white circle'. 'Inotama' is one that I randomly made up. The Aka Manto and the Kappa are monsters from Japanese myths, hitodama are basically the Japanese version of will-o'-the-wisps, and all their stories are quite interesting, so researching more about them would definitely be fun!

Also, school has started recently and I'm now back in Shanghai for tenth grade, so updates may become less frequent. And, please do tell me if I'm going overboard with the ItaSaku fluff because I'm scared that you'll see them as too forced :/

And because BTS has just had their comeback and I nearly died listening to _Love Yourself_ _承_ _'_ _Her'_ —are there any other fellow ARMYs here reading this fic? XD

Lastly, to guest reviewer Maxine: thank you! As I've stated above, I just began tenth grade. I started writing this in the beginning of ninth grade when I was fourteen-years-old. If you want to write your own story, go for it! Remember, practice reduces imperfections, and, most importantly, never give up no matter what anyone tells you!

To any other guest reviewers here—if you have an account, please do try to log in when you review! I'd like to reply to you in pm because I always make sure to thank my reviewers one by one~

Feedback is appreciated!


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